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coolemmasulivan · 1 year

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Good Together | 3

Pairing: Mason Mount x Reader

Summary: Reader is a single mom and the new Social Media Executive of the club and Mason falls in love with her at first sign.

Word count: 2891

Read part 1 here and part 2 here

Author's note: English isn't my first language, so I apologise for my mistakes. I actually want to continue this, but instead of part 3, 4, 5, I think I'll do one shots (bonus scenes from the story, like, teling Noah about the relationship, or wedding, or the rest of the team finding out).

I will hold you like I'm supposed to, and kiss you like it's the last time, I need you (...) 'Cause you're the love of my life

When you opened your eyes the next morning, you felt as if you were dying. You were extremely thirsty, your eyes hurt, and it seemed like someone was drumming in your head.

Slowly you sat up at the head of the bed, but with each movement the feeling got worse. You didn't remember the last time you felt this way, or if you ever felt this way, but one thing was for sure, you were never drinking again.

"Jesus Christ!"

Finally you looked at your surroundings and everything from last night hit you like a train.

"Why do they (hands) fit so well?"

"Can you help me with the zipper?"

"Did you make a bet on me too?"

Your mouth opened in shock and you facepalm yourself. "No. Oh my god, no." You groaned. You slid down in the bed, hiding inside the sheets and kicking your feet around. When you felt the need to breathe you pulled out your head from the sheets. "You've got to be kidding me. What have I done?"

You grabbed your phone off the nightstand to check what time it was when you saw a glass of water and an aspirin. You sat up and drank it down quickly. Your throat relaxed as the liquid ran through it.

You unlocked the phone and saw that it was already 2 p.m and you almost choked on the water. Next to the time, you saw a message from Sophia.

Sophia: Are you alive? Is Mason treating you well? You: I'm going to kill you! How could you leave me alone with him? What kind of friend are you anyway? Sophia: The kind of friend who wants you to be happy with the man you're in love with. You: Not when I'm drunk. Bad move, Sophia, bad move. Ps: Where are my house keys?

Since she took her time answering, you decided you couldn't stay in Mason's bed all day, but as you pull the sheets aside and slowly put your feet on the floor, your phone rings with Sophia's name. A video call.

"I shouldn't even be taking your call." You told her.

Sophia laughed. “Don’t be like that.” You stood up very quickly and the pain in your head intensified. "How's your head?"

You took a deep breath. "I feel like I've been hit by a train. How are you doing so well?"

At that moment, Kai appeared beside her on the video. "I made her a special hangover smoothie."

Sophia made a disgusted face. "It tastes and smells awful, but it works wonders."

"I can see that."

Kai frowned as he turned his face to the camera again. "Are you in Mason's bedroom?"

You blushed. "I--It's no--"

"And is that his shirt?" This time it was Sophia. "Oh my god! Did you two sleep together?"

"She was drunk, Soph. I wouldn't take advantage of her." Mason's voice made you jump. He was leaning against the door with his hair unkempt and his hands in the pockets of his grey sweatpants. "I made you breakfast. Come down when you're done." He whispered. "Goodbye, Soph." He called out.

"Byeeeee!" She shouted into the phone. "He's such a nice guy. You have good taste." You told her to be quiet as Kai gave her a slight hit on the shoulder.

"I've to go."

"Yes. Go have breakfast." She emphasised the word breakfast. "Don't choke on it." She and Kai laughed, while you rolled her eyes.

"Goodbye Sophia. Goodbye." You ended the video phone call and after trying to fix your hair in the mirror, you walked out.

It wasn't hard to find the kitchen, you just followed the good smell in the house. Mason had his back to you while flipping pancakes and humming a song to himself. All you wanted to do was hug his muscular body.

"Why don't you?" He asked you, snapping you out of your trance.

"What?"

He turned off the stove and let the last pancake slide onto the plate. "If you want to hug me, you don't have to ask."

You blushed. "Did I say that out loud?"

"Yes, you did." Mason smiled and set the plate on the kitchen island where there were already two plates and orange juice. "Sit down. You must be hungry."

You slowly sat down on the stool and Mason sat down next to you. You began to eat in silence. The tension was palpable and you didn't know whether to say something or leave it alone.

"I didn't know you could cook." You decide to break the silence.

He looked at you and couldn't help grinning because his clothes looked so good on you. "You never asked." You didn't look at him and kept eating. Mason put his hand under your stool and slowly pulled you towards him. You let out a surprised sound. "Did you sleep well?" You turned your head and Mason's face was closer than you thought.

"Yes." Your nervous voice sounded like a chicken. You cleared your throat. "Yes, I did. Thanks for helping me last night and letting me stay here." You tried to pull away from him, but he quickly pulled you back.

"You can stay here all night and day." He told you, his voice barely a whisper. "And I didn't know you were a drunken seducer." If your legs didn't feel like jelly, you'd have run away and never showed your face in front of him again. "But I like it. It's cute." He whispered in your ear.

You stood up and ran your hands through your hair. "Don't do that, Mason." He looked at you, confused and slightly amused. "Why do you always make me so nervous? It's so frustrating. Every time I see you, I feel like there's a hurricane in my stomach. I even blush when Noah talks about you. And he talks about you every single day. How… How is that possible? Not even my ex-boyfriends made me feel like this."

"Then it's a good thing they're your ex-boyfriends." He stood up as well. His gaze was electrifying, looking at you as if you were his prey.

"Mason, don't do that." You hold your hand in front of you, trying to stop him from coming closer. But even as you try to put some distance between you, Mason quickly caught you and pushed you gently against the white wall.

"Stop running from me." His chest rose and fell quickly. His face was inches from yours and you didn't know how long you could ignore the urge to kiss him. "What I said last night is true. You just need to say the word and I'll be putty in your hands. I like you very much. I--." He took a step back and ran his hands over his head. "I'm in love with you."

You could no longer keep it under control. You clasped his face with both hands and kissed him passionately. Immediately his hands wrapped around your waist and drew you closer together. The kiss became hot and passionate. It felt like time had stopped and you two were the only things that mattered. When it became too much, you broke the kiss to breathe.

"I’m sorry. I shouldn’t–"

"Don’t." His hands gently rested on your - his - shirt, covering your skin. "Don’t say this was a mistake. You have no idea how long I waited and how much I dreamed of feeling your lips." Mason leaned his forehead against yours, breathing heavily. He smiled and you did the same. He kissed your lips again and again, and soon he was making out with you against the wall.

You didn't know how long you kissed. His hair had become messier on your hands and both your lips were swollen. His grip on your hips had tightened and the shirt on your body had lifted.

"You realise I'm not going to let you go now." He kissed your check and hid his face against your neck. You still smelled of alcohol, but he didn't care.

You bit your lip as you felt him kiss your neck. "But I've to. I've to shower and then go to my parents."

"You can shower here. I've hot water."

"I don't have any clothes."

"You can borrow some of mine." He pulled back and looked you up and down. "They look really good on you."

He tried to kiss you again, but you pushed him back. "I really have to go now, Mason."

"Who's to say you won't ignore me again if I let you go. Or what if I let you go and realise this is a dream."

You couldn't blame him. Of course you were scared to get into a relationship with him, but you couldn't ignore your feelings anymore. You were an adult and it had been a long time since you had a serious relationship. You wanted to try it out and you were sure Mason was the one.

You cupped his face and kissed his lips. "This isn't a dream and I swear I won't ignore you." You took a deep breath at the next words. "I'm in love with you too."

After your confession, you saw the biggest smile on his face. Mason sat you down on the couch and the making out continued for a while, but when his mother called him, you used that to your advantage.

You went into his room and got your things. Your mobile, your bag, your black dress and your heels. When you came back out, Mason was finishing his phone call.

"Can you take me home?"

"What about your keys?"

You looked at him. "Kai left them under the door mat this morning when Sophia showed him the keys."

"For fuck's sake, Kai!" He joked, which made you laugh. He grabbed his car keys and led you out.

The ride was a lot of laughing and flirty glances. It had been a long time since you felt so happy. Noah made you happy every day, but Mason made you happy in a different way.

"Are you free Wednesday night?" He asked you as he parked in front of your house.

You took off your seatbelt and looked at him. He had a sweet smile that you found hard to ignore. "I guess so. Why?"

"Will you go on a date with me?"

You smiled. "I have to talk to my parents to see if they can watch Noah. But yes. I can probably go on a date with you." His smile got bigger and the blush on his face appeared. "Have to go! Goodbye, Mason."

Before you could leave, he grabbed your wrist and pulled you back. He cupped your check and kissed you slowly. "Goodbye Y/a."

Monday and Tuesday had gone by quickly. Mason had trapped you a few times in the hallways and stolen a few kisses, even after you told him it was a bad idea and someone would catch you.

"There's no one here." His hands were on your hips, pressing you against the wall.

You 'tried' to push his hands away, but his grip was firm. "Someone can show up, Mason." You whispered.

He pecked your lips, surprising you. "So let them see." He kissed your lips again. "It's not like this will be a surprise to anyone."

He knew what he was doing. You end up leaning forwards and kissing him. You felt him smiling against the kiss and his hands gripped your waist harder, bringing you closer to him, if that was even possible.

But as soon as you heard voices getting closer, you pushed Mason away. Next thing you know, your father and Noah appeared at the end of the hallway.

"Mason!" Noah shouted and ran toward the footballer. Mason gave him a high five and a hug, as your father gave you a knowing look. You felt your cheeks getting red. "Can we play together after training?"

"Of course." Mason said.

"Uhh, excuse me? What about your homework?" You crossed your arms over your chest and looked at the young boy.

Noah let out a sigh. "Can we play together after Mason’s training and after I finish my homework? Please, mum!"

You rolled your eyes and nodded. "The sooner you start your homework the sooner you can play." Noah thanked you and quickly ran toward your office, with his blue backpack on his back. "Thank you for dropping him off, dad."

"You’re welcome, darling."

"Ahmm. Let me introduce you. Dad, this is Mason. Mason, this is Y/d/n, my dad." They shook hands. You could see the nervousness on Mason’s face.

"Nice meeting you, Mr. Y/d/l/n."

"You too, Mason. You too!" He smiled. "You have something on your lips, boy."

Mason cleaned his lips with the back of his hands, seeing your lipstick on it. He blushed and you closed your eyes in embarrassment. You told him someone would catch you.

You opened the door when the doorbell rang. Like always your parents were delighted to stay with Noah. Noah, on the other hand, was questioning himself why was he going to stay his grandparents again.

"Hi, sweetheart!" Your mum greeted you.

You greeted her back. "Come in."

Noah got up from the sofa and ran toward his grandmother. "Hi, Grandma!"

Your mum hugged him back. "Hello, my sweet boy." She kissed him on the head. "Are you ready to go? Grandpa is going to make you your favourite for dinner."

Noah's face lights up. "YES! Can mum come too?"

You uncrossed your arms and smiled at him. "No, sweety. I've dinner with a friend, remember? That's why you're going to stay with Grandma and Grandpa."

"Oh, yes." Noah grabbed his backpack from the sofa. You helped him put it on and kissed him on the cheek. "Mummmm!"

"Be good! I'll pick you up tomorrow after school."

You said your goodbyes and when you closed the door, you started getting nervous all over again. It was really happening, after trying to push Mason away so many times, you were finally going on a date with him.

You walked into your bedroom. There were clothes all over the place. On the bed, on the floor, even on top of the TV you had in front of your bed.

"Oh my god. What am I going to wear?"

At Mason's house, he was agitated, walking from one side to another in front of the TV his niece was trying to see.

His sister was watching him and was becoming light-headed. "Mason, can you stop, please? Why are you so nervous? It's not your first date."

Mason stopped and sat down on the sofa, his leg shaking up and down. "But it's my first date with Y/a."

His sister smiled at him. "You really like her!"

"I do. I think about her every second of every day." An image of you came to his mind and he immediately smiled. "She's so pretty. She's an amazing person and she's an awesome mother. She's a quiet person but when she speaks everyone stops to listen to her and her smile, is the best thing ever."

Even his niece that didn't understand what was going on and what he was saying, watched his uncle stunned.

"So you found the one!"

Mason stopped for a second and looked at his sister. She was right, he had found the one he wanted to spend the rest of his life with.

It was you.

The door banged on the wall with so much force, that Mason had to stretch his hand so it wouldn't hit you in the back. You entered the house, lips still locked. He closed the door and pushed you back against the wall tightly.

His lips trailed down your jaw, finding that sweet spot on your neck. You pulled off his jacket, dropping it on the floor at his feet. While still kissing your neck, he did the same with your coat.

You cupped his face, bringing him back so you could kiss him again. You pushed him backwards, enough to guide him toward the living room.

The house was dark, but you knew the way to your bedroom by the back of your hand. Or so you thought.

You pushed Mason against the back of the sofa and his hands instantly pull you between his legs. The kiss was hot and sensual. The tension could be felt in the air.

One of his hands pull the strap of your dress from your shoulder, and yours pulled up his shirt over his head. Your hands immediately feeling up his abs.

"You're so beautiful." His voice sounded deeper.

"Look who's talking."

His hands grabbed your bum and lifted you up. You instantly locked your legs around him. You told him where to go while kissing his neck and running your hand through his hair.

Mason was so lost in your touch, that he didn't notice the floor ahead of him full of Noah's toys. He stepped into them and lost his balance. You let out a surprised cry as you felt him falling backwards with you in his arms.

"Holy shit!" He said, scratching his head that had hit the floor.

"Are you okay?" You sat up and took your weight off of him.

"Shit. Next time I'll let you go first." When you realised he was fine and hadn’t hurt himself, you burst out laughing. "Why are you laughing?" You leaned against the wall of the hallway, laughing uncontrollably. Mason sat up and leaned against the wall in front of you and smiled at your laughter. "If we're going to continue this, give me a minute."

"I'm so sorry. I should have cleaned up Noah's mess." You crawled towards him and leaned your head against his shoulder. "Welcome to my world. You still have time to jump out of the boat."

"No thanks. I like this boat." He kissed your head and grabbed your hand. "Your son doesn’t even know we’re together and he's already cockblocking me. This is going to be fun!"

"You know," You cleared your throat. "Noah never actually met my ex-boyfriends. I mean, he did meet them, but as friends. I never introduced them, and they never stayed long enough for Noah to get to know them as anything more serious." You looked at Mason. He was looking at you, his warm hand still intertwined with yours. His passion and pleasure were clear in his eyes, even in the dark room. "What I'm saying is that I can be a bit difficult to be in a relationship with, but Noah is the most important person in my life and I can't–"

Mason cupped your face and kissed you passionately, interrupting your words. "I like you and I like Noah. I know he comes first for you, always will, and you'll do anything to protect him. I can only promise you that I'll do my best to be his best friend and protect him as much as you do. I know what I got myself into when I was chasing after you for the last few months. Believe me, this will work."

"How can you be so sure?"

"We’re good together!"

Tags

@marialikescherries @ricsaigaslec @alwaysclassyeagle @insssanemind @faatxma

#mason mount x reader #mason mount x you #mason mount imagine #mason mount imagines #mason mount #mason mount fluff #mason mount fic #mason mount x y/n #footballer imagines #footballer x reader #footballer imagine

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agendabymooner · 5 months

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the little schuminis || ms47 fic

dad!mick schumacher x mom!ofc

EXTENSION TO SHE’S EVERYTHING… AND HE’S JUST MICK! (SMAU) + MICK, MULTIPLIED (SNAPSHOT)

Summary: Barbie Schumacher was the best mother there is to Mick’s little carbon copies. OR four times when Mick showed his devotion for his kids, and the one time his devotion paid off.

Content warning: Made this in about an hour— did not proofread this but I love it bc F1 driver with kids, All around fluff, Mick issa good dad, Michael Schumacher and Sebastian Vettel being wingmen to their kids (Barbie and Mick), Michael’s clowning his own son, many Schumacher kids

Note: @avaleineandafryingpan I know this isn’t much but I hope you love this request babygorl 😭😭🫶 my heart beats for you fr. Enjoy some dad!Mick content xx

a - n masterlist

o - z masterlist

i. the time with minna schumacher’s late night wake up call

Shrill cries of a newborn love was equal to the agony that Barbie Schumacher — formerly Blanco Vettel — felt as she groaned quietly. 3 AM never felt this awful until her firstborn child reached her teething stage, and all Barbie wanted to do was cry like her daughter was doing in her nursery now.

Perhaps it wasn’t ideal to have a baby at the age of 27. Many people told her that her spouse wasn’t ready for that kind of commitment— that he was still on the peak of his career as a formula one driver.

And Mick was in the midst of a season when Minna Elisa Schumacher was born. Being away from her for far TOO long was something he didn’t want, but he was forced to leave as soon as Minna reached her 47th hour of her life. Mick never hated something this much until his career made him choose.

Barbie grumbled as she reached for her nightgown and slipped it on, only for a large hand to pull her back to the mattress as the German man murmured, “I’ll get her, liebling.”

“Mick…” Barbie hadn’t really wanted to make him get up, seeing as he just arrived four hours ago after his triple header.

“‘s okay, I’ll get Minna,” he muttered, reaching out to kiss his wife’s forehead. “Just go get settled down and you can feed her here.”

The blond man had immediately found Minna crying in her crib as he cradled her, heading downstairs to grab some iced teether to help soothe her gums. “Shh,” he shushed her gently, the baby’s cry subsiding immediately as she sucked on the teether. “You hungry, liebe? Or ‘s it just your gums?”

“We have to stop waking your mom up at such an early time, Minnie baby,” he sighed, rocking her in his arms as they made their way back up to the bedroom. “She’s been awake all the time— she works too hard for us.”

“She’s amazing, no?” Mick asked his daughter as if she could understand every single word he was saying.

“Ma…” Minna mumbled regardless, clinging to his arms as Mick grinned tiredly.

“Yeah, I know,” Mick nodded. “She’s working too hard, Minna. I’m glad she’s here to see you grow like this, liebe.”

“Talking to Minna again, Schums?” A soft voice reached his ears as Mick looked back at his wife, who had her back against the headboard as she smiled tiredly and extended her arms.

“Of course, Barbie,” Mick chuckled. “She’s got to learn her words, one of these days.”

“No need to lecture her though,” Barbie told him. But it wasn’t anything that she didn’t appreciate; she always liked it when Mick talked to their child like Minna understood everything. He had been doing this since Barbie fell pregnant with the girl— he’d often crouch down or lay next to her bulging stomach to speak to the growing baby inside of her.

It showed Barbie that Mick was a committed father. It showed that regardless of his situation as a busy driver, he always saw his family as his number one priority. Perhaps that was why Barbie loved Mick so much.

ii. the time with gisela schumacher’s first ballet show

Gisela Belle Schumacher’s first little ballerina performance was happening in the program facility and everyone made sure to show up.

By everyone, I mean Barbie’s family, the Vettels, and Gisela’s (or Gigi) aunt Gina, Pippa Michael and Nina Corinna. The two year old was excited to show everyone what she practiced with Madame Pinault throughout her three months of being at the class.

She was the tiniest girl out of the group, with her bright blue eyes and blonde hair making her stand out in comparison to her peers’ darker tones of hair. The Schumachers and Vettels knew which one to look out for while they waited at the auditorium.

Barbie peered down at her phone and sighed quietly. Mick wasn’t here yet. Stupid flight of his.

At Gigi’s age, she couldn’t easily grasp the concept of people not being able to make it to certain events at the right time. All she knew was that she was going to show her Dada how she could balance on her tiptoes without a problem.

And of course, Mick couldn’t find himself to break her heart like that. And so, after the Brazilian GP, he took the fastest flight back to Lausanne.

And there he was, rushing inside the auditorium with the biggest bouquet for the littlest girl.

Minna’s announcement led the families to look at him as Mick kissed Barbie’s lips and Minna’s cheeks.

“I’m sorry I’m late,” Mick apologized, “the baggage claim took longer than expected.”

“She hasn’t gone out yet,” Barbie laughed quietly, mindlessly caressing Minna’s blonde hair as she continued to speak, “glad to see you back from the race in one piece, though. With the biggest flowers too.”

Later after the performance, Gigi ran around the Schumacher home with the bouquet bragging about the flowers her Dada had given her. Barbie laughed at the sight of the girl— she was too adorable.

Mick laughed along, as he knew that he’d be more than happy to come carrying the biggest flowers for his girl— even after the longest double header he’s had. After all, nothing can stop him from being the best father to his children.

iii. the time with mika schumacher’s birthday party

“Who decided that setting up a pet display should be this fuc—“

“Mick, watch your words.”

“Sorry, Dad.”

“Stop going crazy,” Michael said with a frown, throwing the small giraffe plushie at the direction of his son, to which Mick reacted with an ‘Ow!’ after being hit in the face. “This isn’t the first birthday party you’ve handled.”

“Well this is the first one where ‘pet adoptions’ are a thing,” Mick gestured at the safari animal plushies at hand. “I don’t know what came up to Gina thinking it’s easy to find bulk plushies, but this is the hardest thing I’ve ever done— and I have three kids, Dad!”

“Because you can’t control yourself,” Michael mumbled, making Mick glare at him. Michael shrugged, “Am I incorrect?”

Mick couldn’t even find himself to argue with his dad. Six years into the marriage, and he and Barbie already had three kids under seven.

“I’m just so used to the girls wanting princesses and all of that,” Mick pouted lightly.

Michael sighed, “Well, now you have Mika— think of him as you. What did you like when you’re a kid? Put yourself in his shoes. Don’t tell me you’re having an existential crisis three kids into marriage? I’m actually gonna be disappointed if you didn’t think that before you had the kids— you’ve been a driver for years!”

“How can you find a time to joke about it,” Mick sighed exasperatedly. “I don’t even know why I’m here being an ass about my kid’s birthday party.”

“Because,” Michael told him with a purse of his lips, “you’ve never had a son before— that’s why you’re stressing out about messing up.”

“I struggled with you for a good while,” Michael shrugged nonchalantly, “Gina was into princesses and pink ponies. You were a boy— I didn’t know what baby boys liked. But I was a racer, that’s why I didn’t have any questions— I still hesitated though because you might like something else and I have to be aware of it.”

“From what I can tell, you’re doing an alright job so far,” Michael smiled at Mick, patting him on the shoulder. “Miki’s been a happy child. That’s what matters, no?”

“So pick up your sad face and put those plushies up,” Michael said.

A delighted scream came from inside the house as the year old boy escaped from Kimi Vettel’s chasing, giggling as Mika Sebastian Schumacher ran as much as his little legs could handle.

Eventually he found himself in the arms of Mick as Mika hid from his Uncle Kimi.

“Da!” Mika screamed delightfully, kicking his legs when Kimi Vettel began tickling the boy.

Mick and Michael exchanged grins.

Yeah, Mick would continue to put these plushies up if it meant that he’s making his son happy.

iv. the time with michael ‘mikey’ schumacher’s introduction to the world

Michael Senna, or Mikey, Schumacher was born sixteen hours ago, his tiny body was proof that he was so much like his mother. Yet despite the smallness of his, his facial features and expressions of contentment showed that he was his father’s son.

Another Mick Schumacher had been born into the world, and Barbie and Mick (alongside their family in Switzerland) welcomed him with open arms.

And no one was more than excited than the newborn’s namesake, his Pippa Michael, and Sebastian Vettel when meeting the little boy. In fact, they raced through the hospital as soon as they heard that Barbie, Sebastian’s adoptive daughter, had given birth to Mick’s second son.

Michael was more than happy to meet the boy— just as he was excited to meet his other grandchildren— but to meet little Mikey Schumacher was a moment to remember for everyone. Because that was also the time when Mick announced that…

“I’m retiring,” both Seb and Michael looked at the man with surprised expressions as if they wondered if they heard him right.

Mick explained, “I feel like I’ve lost a lot of time with the kids because I’ve been racing. The kids obviously don’t know how much time I’ve lost because they’re young but… I do. Barbie does.

“It took me a good while to understand what Mika loved— it took me a while to learn how to keep Gigi from having flyaways in her hair during her ballet classes— or how Minnie managed to handle her equestrian routine without Gina or Mom.

“I’ve lost a lot of time,” he said with a small chuckle and a shake of his head. Mick then gestured at Mikey, who remained peacefully sleeping in Michael’s arms as he said, “And with Mikey, I think I can’t afford to do that anymore. I’m okay with one championship only.”

Sebastian broke the silence after, “I’m proud of you Mick,” he smiled softly before reaching out to hug his in-law. “Look at how far Barbie and you’ve come.”

“Back then we had to goad him to ask Barbie on a date,” Michael chuckled quietly.

“It took us eight years,” Sebastian joked.

“Or nine,” Michael snorted.

“We’re still here,” Barbie mumbled in her sleep, “stop making jokes about it.”

“Still,” Michael said, “we’re very happy for you and Barbie, son.”

“This is where your life begins,” Sebastian nodded, “all you need to do is to tell everyone about your commitments and devotion for your children and wife.”

i. the time mick’s devotion paid off

Being a retired driver felt great. It wasn’t everyday Mick got to say that— and now he had every chance to.

Barbie’s family restaurant in Lausanne, one that she named SV et Blanco, had been built years ago— it was the Vettels and Schumachers’ pride. After she graduated from culinary school, Barbie worked as a chef in nearby restaurants before eventually deciding that she wanted a place where family could start their traditions through countless dishes and desserts to try.

Needless to say, it became a local and even international favourite. Many tourists in Switzerland would try to stop by Lausanne just to get a taste of Kimi Vettel’s favourite spinach and egg soufflé.

And now, SV et Blanco became a place for the Schumachers to spend their time during the Friday afternoons after Minna and Gigi’s classes. Mick would always pick up his daughters with Mika and ten month old Mikey on their car seats.

And after that, he’d come dropping by the restaurant. With Mika on his pram and Mikey on his back carrier, he led the kids into the restaurant as they found their mother making her rounds around the place.

“Mama!” Minna exclaimed before she and Gigi ran towards Barbie, hugging her around the legs.

“Oh, excuse me,” Barbie smiled at the guests before she crouched down to hug her girls. “Gigi, Minnie— hello! How’s school!”

“School is good, Mama!” Gigi grinned. “I got star for writing!”

“That right? Good job, Gigi,” Barbie grinned. “And you, Minnie? How is your school?”

“Okay! I want soufflé though!” The eldest Schumacher pouted lightly. “I wanna see Pippa and Nina!”

“Pippa and Nina! And Sebby— and Mamma Bel!” Mika shouted from his pram.

Barbie giggled lightly before looking up at her husband, “And…? How’s Dada, kids?”

“Dada’s not that busy,” Mick giggled, “hungry for some soufflé though— Minna’s right.”

“Well,” Barbie clapped her hands before standing up, “it’s a good thing it’s our everyday special.”

“Great,” Mick joked. “Otherwise we traveled to Lausanne for nothing.”

Barbie rolled her eyes playfully.

It was a good thing Mick’s devotion and commitment for his kids were paying off. Otherwise, he wouldn’t be the retired father that he is now— his kids wouldn’t be adoring their mother as much as Mick did back when they were teenagers and secretly in love.

#formula one dad #formula one fic #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #formula one imagine #formula 1 #f1 fic #formula one x oc #mick schumacher fluff #mick schumacher imagine #mick schumacher fanfiction #mick schumacher fanfic #ms47 #formula one fluff #f1 fluff #f1

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 3 months

Note

AITA for agreeing to be a bridesmaid in my cousin's wedding even though I think she's making a huge mistake?

(Emojis so I recognize it 👰‍♀️💍🤵)

So my (24F) cousin Anna (21F) got engaged at the start of December. This was really surprising to me because the last time I saw her at Thanksgiving she was just starting to get back into dating via tinder after a couple bad breakups, and she wasn't actively seeing anyone yet. When I got home for Christmas break, my mother told me that Anna had gotten engaged to and moved in with her new boyfriend, Evan (~22/23M), an army guy she'd met three weeks before and that no one but her immediate family had even met yet.

Our family has always been pretty close, and this was concerning for a lot of reasons. 1) she literally just had a nasty breakup with her rebound boyfriend after a nasty breakup with her last long-term relationship, making this guy her 4th serious boyfriend this year, 2) she historically has very bad taste in men, every boyfriend she has ever had had treated her horribly and she ties her entire self-worth up into how her boyfriend sees her so she's literally never been single for more than a couple weeks since high school, 3) her older sister (28F) literally just left a 13 year abusive relationship with the guy who started grooming her when she was 15 and he was 28, 4) the groom is about to ship out for a 9 month deployment a month after their March wedding and military men are notorious for cheating or divorcing on long deployments, 5) she wants her dream wedding in March (giving us only 2 months to plan and fundraise), despite her parents already being in tight financial straits bc they started building a house right before unexpectedly needing to take in and help provide for their eldest daughter and her two kids and both my grandparents (who live with them) having sudden drops in their health to the point where my grandfather probably will pass in the next couple months and my grandmother could pass at any time (though tbf, were pretty sure no one has told Anna this since my grandparents don't want to scare her and her mom's in denial).

I also just really don't like the groom bc the one time I met him he made a ton of racist and homophobic jokes despite there being multiple black and queer family members present, but if that were the only thing I could probably bite my tongue since I don't think that's something that bothers her or anyone else in the family. I'm just really worried about her, since it seems like she's been going through something for a while and I know how hard this is on my whole family, especially my grandparents, since we all are really scared about what's going to happen to her if things go wrong and considering the circumstances, that's a good chance this will go wrong.

I want to make it clear, I do really want this to work out for her. She's head over heels in love and he seems to care about her too. I just don't expect it to go well and I've said as much to anyone who asked how I feel about it.

Here's where I could be the asshole: Anna's really having a hard time with the entire family telling her this is a bad and impulsive idea, feeling like everyone who has a problem with it isn't supporting her. She called and asked me to be a bridesmaid, specifically because "you've always looked out for and supported me even when no one else did, so I really want you to be my bridesmaid." I told her I would love to be there and support her however she wanted me to, and I fully intend to be the best bridesmaid I can be because I want this to be a happy memory for her and to take as much stress off her and her parents as possible. But now she thinks I support this marriage when I definitely don't and have been open about that with both our moms as well as her sister (the maid of honor), my SIL (also a bridesmaid), and my brother (a groomsman), all of whom are in the same boat.

So, am I the asshole for agreeing to be my cousin's bridesmaid while thinking she's making a big mistake?

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

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beesmygod · 3 months

Note

What are some of your favorite pieces of art/ art that has made you think a lot?

this is such a cheesy cop-out answer, but there's a lot of things that im going to struggle remembering because of 1. how situational the experience was (as in, the context in which i experienced the piece) 2. how wide the word "art piece" is. 3. the great fortune to have been born to parents with strong artistic sensibilities and a love of travel/education. so these are like. really weird and specific but maybe thats the way it should be:

let's start with the most overly dramatic: st. paul's cathedral in london has guided tours where they take you into rooms and let you mill around before moving to the next one. my family took a trip overseas as a really, really big special vacation to celebrate my sister and i graduating from high school (we're not twins, we just combo'd it after she graduated) that i was too brain-broken and teenage to fully appreciate. its a beautiful cathedral but i was in my edgy internet atheist stage and refused to be impressed by it until i stood over a grate in the floor. through the grates you can see the crypt that you visit next. but standing over the grate, someone below started to sing something hymnal and very catholic. and i realized i was the only one who could hear it because of the crowd chatter. and it made me feel, in the moment, so special and so lonely in a way that i still think about, a lot. it was for me only. divine providence.

a date with adam to a place i had no idea existed but he had been to before: the bad art museum, which is split over like 3 different buildings in a bizarre way. we only went to the one where you have to buy a ticket to a movie as entry and it was some truly lovely bad art and made me sad how inaccessible it was but resolute about my love of the nuances of uncelebrated anti-art masterpieces. then we watched "assassination nation" and it was fucking terrible. great date.

reading the theory regarding the "venus of willendorf" being a self portrait as a 20-something year old and running into the bathroom to take my clothes off and look down at myself and having my mind blown. not just by how much i instantly understood it, but because of the tugging feeling on my heart when i feel that strand of history connecting women artists driven by that unknown compulsion to create for creations sake!

similarly, seeing artemisia gentileschi's work next to her fathers and realizing how much she outclassed him in every single way and feeling the tugging feeling again, but this time with a dark woe of realization of how history minimizes achievement and talent when it eases a narrative

reading jane erye's descriptions of herself and her approaches to her plights and for the first time feeling like someone had walked a path that i currently found myself lost on.

reading 1984 as a middle schooler and becoming so angry at the ending i threw the book across the room (something i had never done before and never did again in my life) and stormed out of my room to complain to my mom lol. IT REALLY UPSET ME!!!

reading les miserables for the first time and weeping piteously for days after the ending and having it impact my brain so hard it re-wired how i think about the concept of "legacy" and what it means to matter in the world and how love is nothing without the courage to stand up for it. and that mercy should, and will, always supersede unwavering justice (hard lesson to remember, maybe im due for a re-read)

sneaking into my parents room to read the books i wasnt supposed to yet as a really little kid lol. my mom used to get "dykes to watch out for" in a newsletter she was subscribed to! but i didnt read those bc they were dumb relationship comics for grown-ups. i wanted to read about opus the penguin and lee iacocca, as if i knew who that was. my mother's comic collection was the single most influential constant in my life. knowing that i was exposed to bill watterson's commentary about his own work via the big collections my mom owned probably explains a lot about what's wrong with me. but she also had a lot of berke breathed before he fully wussed out

the general experience of playing a video game that you arent supposed to/when you arent supposed to is probably one of the most freeing means of meaningless rebellion as a kid that everyone should experience. i used to be up playing pokemon past my bedtime under my covers with a huge heavy rubber flashlight i stole from the kitchen and had to replace every morning without getting caught once i was done with it. god, the days before backlit screens we had to get really fucking wild with it. in high school i would wake up at 5:00am, sneak into the computer room where the ps2 was and play an hour of FFX bc its the longest fucking non-persona game in the world, stop playing before my mom woke up at 6:00am and sneak back into bed. if i hit a part where i couldnt save i would just turn the screen off and come back to it tomorrow lol. secrets......

reading the "pictures for sad children" arc about paul, who is a ghost, finally losing it and going on a rant about how it has never mattered how thin a computer screen is. they were right and reading it helped me articulate and understand a growing feeling of restless frustration at the world around me that i felt singular and alone in. im glad that last i heard that artist is doing ok. i hope they recognize the incredible value in their work as imperfect as they perceived it to be. i do not think they would be happy to know that their old work was impactful, but i hope they realize that what people are able to tease out of their work is meaningful, at least to me it is. ill transcribe the comic rather than repost it i think: paul [while smashing electronics]: "have i told you about [bam] how nerds destroy the world take conspicuous consumption as a lifestyle choice and combine it with early hardware adoption and you have great swaths of gadgetry out of stock because they're incrementally better than the last model and there are landfills full of functioning electronics wasted time, resources, money, etc. the best part is that these things were never necessary it has never mattered how thing a computer is." [smash]

this is too long. i like art.

#art #long post

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romanreignseater · 1 year

Text

Time Alone.

Jey Uso x Reader

Rating: 18 +

Warning: Smut & a slight mention of a stomach bulge.

“Time was something that didn’t even seem to exist to you. But, your husband Jey does sure know how to have a fun time.”

A/N: I just had to write a little something for my Main Event Jey Uso, and after seeing his Instagram story this past week… It was my destiny 😭😭. I did say that I would release this yesterday, so let’s just consider this a little Valentine’s Day piece.

GIF: @rebecca-quin

Being a business owner of your own makeup brand, Zeta Cosmetics, and being a full time mother to four kids was really tough. Even though your husband Jey, was a big time help and support system, it was still super difficult to balance everything. And you’re blessed to have such smart and active children, but you’re starting to think they’re a little too active.

The fact that three of your children had different after school activities, was a WHOLE struggle in itself. Your oldest daughter, did humanitarian volunteer work for an hour after school, then softball practice every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. NOT to mention, she just got her first job, and guess who has to take her to work? Yup… it’s me. Then, your first son, wants to be an all sport MVP, cause he just plays every single sport there is. So, his practices are just all over the place. Your second daughter is a cheerleader for her brothers football team and has weekly cheer competitions. The hair, the makeup, the uniforms, and that monthly fee… She’s lucky she looks absolutely adorable with that little bow on her head. And your last child, which is your son, is only 10 months old. So, he’s basically the Pomeranian that you keep in your purse DAILY.

Kids are such wonders, but mama needs a break sometimes.

“Hey baby”, your husband Jey said smiling through the phone. “I miss you so much. Why did you have to leave me this week for your crazy ass twin?!” You said chuckling.

“Put some respect on my name sis.” Said the crazy ass twin himself, Jimmy. “I ain’t gotta do a damn thing, you took my man from me”, “He was mine first anyway”. Jimmy said sticking his tongue out at you. “Okay, okay, let’s not fight.” Jey said sternly. “But, listen baby I know how tired you are, and I wanna make sure my lady good. So, pack a little overnight bag, the jet is gonna be ready in about four hours.” “What are you up to boy?…” You said smirking slightly.

“Don’t worry about it, you know I got you girl.” Jey said showing that blazing smile. “Okay, but what kind of clothes am I supposed to be wearing sir?!” “Well, I was hoping you’d be wearing nothing. But, it’s somewhere a little tropical, so I guess that gives you the chance to just to what it do”. “Can you not talk about Y/N being naked, I think I’m gonna throw up”, said his goofy older brother. “I know you not talking Jimmy. Don’t let me get Trin on that ass.” “Y’all just stupid”, Jey said giving a breathless laugh.

“But, I’ll see you later tonight, alright baby.” “Wait… what about the kids?!” “I’m WAYYYY ahead of you. I got my mom and pops on that.” Thank god he had that sorted out, even though it’s gonna be a little hard to leave my babies, we could use some time alone. “I’ll see you tonight.” “See you tonight”. ~FaceTime ends.~

5 hours later

Jey is the best you could ever ask for. After packing your overnight bag, and saying bye to the kids. It was you and the love of your life… forever. He took you to a quick day and a half trip to Cuba. The villa you guys were staying at was absolutely gorgeous and the workers were radiantly exceptional. “This is so beautiful baby.” You said blushing. “I’m glad you like it, you know the Tribal Chief knows all the vacation hot spots.” “He damn sure does. But… he never stayed in this specific room. Right?!” Jey looked at you and said, “I’m pretty sure they have multiple honeymoon suites.” “Thank god, cause you don’t know what that man does.” You said barely being able to hold in your laughter. Jey laughed along with you.

Since the trip was pretty short, you guys had to make the most of it. By sleeping first, since there was no time difference and it was late at night. But, by tomorrow you guys would be up and at em’.

Soon the morning came and the workers at the villa surprised us with a lovely breakfast. Following us taking showers and getting ready, it was time for the tour. The tour guides showed us around the city and as we were on the tour, we jumped straight into every single activity there is to do. Snorkeling, scuba diving, and surfing. Even though I don’t smoke, cigars are something that are widely used in Cuba. So, one puff wouldn’t hurt. After our morning and afternoon endeavors, we stopped by La Guarida in Havana for a lovely dinner at the top floor of the restaurant. He is more than you could ever ask for.

Jey always seemed to have a tough exterior, but he was a huge softie for anything romantic. We later arrived back at our villa and where a trail of rose petals and sensuous candles led into the bedroom. “Now… what is this Joshua?!” You said turning to him with a sly smirk on your face.

“Its some time alone that you deserve”.

As we have both known from experience… we had to blow out all of the candles first. Jey then took my waist into his hands and held me tight. As if he didn’t want to let go. We started to make out with one another, our tongues fighting for dominance, and Jey winning the battle. He gently laid me on top of the comfort heart shaped bed and pulled the zipper of my short bodycon dress down. Jey started to my massage my breasts as if he were yearning for them. I slid the rest of my dress down my body, as Jey continued his assault on my breasts. “Mmmm…-, it feels so good baby”. I moaned to my husband as he said, “Imma make you feel something real good.”

He quickly removed my panties and flipped me over to all fours. Jey pushed his hand into the middle of my back to get me to arch. “That’s just how I like it baby, stay like that”. I then heard him pulling off his shirt and unbuckling his belt from his slacks. His pants made a thud onto the white marbled tiled floor and the bed plummets down as he arrived on top of it. “Aaaaa- oooHhh my goddd”. I moaned loudly as Jey dove right into my wetness. His tongue basically playing mind games on me. It felt like I didn’t know where I was.

“Shit tastes so fucking good mama, I could eat it all day if I could.” His words of appreciation make me gush out even more. The intimacy levels were through the roof as he paused his eating to finally give me what I’ve been wanting.

He entered me so smoothly, as my cunt was slick. “Damn baby, it’s like a waterfall up in here. That’s what I do to you… huh?!” Jey said. “Yes baby that’s what you do to me, now please fuck me.” “My pleasure.” Jey said as he started to profoundly pound into my hot sex. My moans couldn’t stop, the pleasure was just too much. “uhh-huh—hhhh”, my moans started filling the room. Jey started to pull on my hair and spank me repeatedly. “You like that shit.. huh?!” He said. “Ye-ssss, I love ii-ttt, give me more”. And Jey did as you wished. It felt as if he was in your stomach, as that thought crossed your mind. Jey put his hand onto your stomach and said, “You feel that baby, I’m in your stomach.” You took your hand from the sheets and placed in onto your stomach.

He really was in my stomach

I felt his cock bulge into my stomach and my eyes rolled back. Jey continues to give it to me and I felt my climax reaching its point. “Baby, I’m gonna cum.” “Go ahead baby, I’m there with you”. Jey said as his thrust became sloppy and grunts lowered. We both reached our peaks at the same time. I lied flat on the bed and Jey right beside me. “That was so good baby, we gotta do it like that every time”. Jey said with his forearm over his face. “But, we need more time alone before that.”

“You know I got you on that baby.” Said Jey smiling at you.

Just some more time alone.

THE END.

Let me know what you guys think about this and if I should write for more members of the Bloodline. Maybe even for other superstars

#jey uso #jey uso fanfiction #jey uso x reader #jey uso smut #jey uso fic

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scribblesandsherlock · 5 months

Text

movie!FNAF Incorrect Quotes: Part 2

Happy Thanksgiving!

WILLIAM: The first step to every successful murder is to have fun and be yourself.

•••

VANESSA: Avenge my death

MIKE: But you're not dying...

VANESSA: AVENGE ME!

•••

VANESSA, over the phone: Do you see the blue wire?

MIKE: Yeah? *reaches for it*

VANESSA: Don't touch it

MIKE, yanking his hand back: Start with, 'don't'!

•••

MIKE: I want to sit in a comfortable chair, watch television, and go to sleep at a reasonable hour.

•••

MIKE, opening a Capri Sun: Guess I'll drink my sorrows away.

•••

MIKE: Okay Google, how do I get revenge on those who have forsaken me?

Google: The best revenge is letting go and living well.

MIKE:

MIKE: Bing, how do I get–

•••

MIKE: Kill me now

ABBY: Sorry, no can do. I need your help with my homework.

•••

WILLIAM: I'm never donating blood again! The second you walk in, it's just one invasive question after another!

WILLIAM: "Where'd you get the blood?" and, "Why is it in a bucket?"

•••

MIKE: I have to admit something to you guys...I slept in jeans last night

CHICA: Mr. Cupcake, kick him out of here

•••

VANESSA, watching Mike doing upper-body exercises: He's been going at it for a while. I wonder where he finds the motivation

MIKE, under his breath: I'm going to get so good at hugging my baby sister

•••

ABBY: Then what are you saying? Find new friends?

MIKE: I'm not saying find new friends, I'm...

MIKE: Yes, I am. Find new friends.

•••

VANESSA: *Trying to sneak past her dad*

WILLIAM: Don't even think about it

VANESSA: How'd you know?

WILLIAM: I'm your father. I know everything. Now, where have you been?

VANESSA: I thought you knew everything.

[if this was the movie, this would be the part she got choked]

•••

MIKE: Shh! Did everybody hear that? Do you know what that sound was?

ABBY: What?

MIKE: That was the sound of my patience shattering into a billion little pieces.

•••

MIKE: What doesn't kill you, gives you a lot of unhealthy coping mechanisms and a really dark sense of humor.

•••

VANESSA: THE FLOOR IS LAVA!

ABBY: *helps Mike onto the table*

GOLDEN FREDDY: *kicks Mike off the table*

VANESSA: As you can see, there are two types of kids.

•••

GOLDEN FREDDY, narrating: And that's when they became horribly lost.

ABBY: Are we lost?

MIKE: No!

GOLDEN FREDDY: He lied.

MIKE: Stop it!

•••

VANESSA: Esto es tu culpa.

MIKE: *sighs* I know, I know!

ABBY: Wait, you speak Spanish?

MIKE: I know the phrase 'this is your fault' in every language spoken to me.

•••

MIKE: It's so hard to be a single mom when she’s not your biological daughter and are an adult man.

•••

[After building the infamous fort]

ABBY: It's moments like these that I'll never forget

MIKE: With enough therapy, hopefully, someday I will

•••

ABBY: Love is dead and never existed. All you did was betray me as I lay sick and festering.

GOLDEN FREDDY: Abby, what's wrong? Are you okay??

ABBY: Mike stole my garlic bread

•••

VANESSA, helping Mike after he got knocked unconscious: Aww, you poor thing

MIKE, completely out of it: Don't bring my finances into this

•••

VANESSA: Do you ever worry you'll regret the things you're doing now, in the future?

MIKE: No, I just regret everything instantly

•••

MIKE: I need caffeine.

ABBY: Doesn't it give you anxiety?

MIKE: Yes. But it also gives me energy. So I can feel anxious longer.

•••

MIKE: Where's my sister?

GOLDEN FREDDY: Don't worry about Abby

MIKE: Oh, I'm sorry, have you met me?

•••

ABBY: I cannot stand her.

GOLDEN FREDDY: Me too.

ABBY: You've no idea who I'm talking about.

GOLDEN FREDDY: Solidarity, sister.

•••

ABBY: Let's do something scary!

MIKE: We could go to bed early and be alone with our thoughts.

•••

VANESSA: What could be giving you anxiety?

MIKE: Um, let's see...Every aspect of my life

•••

MIKE: You think that disapproving glare works on me after after all the times I've seen it?

•••

ABBY: Please? For me?

MIKE: Don't do that. You think every time you say "Please? For me?" I'll do whatever you want, well, not this time.

ABBY: Please? For me?

MIKE: Okay.

•••

WILLIAM: Tell me what I want to know and I'll burn your house to the ground.

MIKE: Um, don’t you mean 'or'?

WILLIAM: Fine. Tell me what I want to know OR I'll burn your house to the ground.

ABBY: Well, which is it? That seems like a pretty crucial conjunction.

•••

MIKE: Wait a minute! We don't go TOWARDS the scary sound!

ABBY: Yeah, we do. We always do.

MIKE: I really hate that about us

•••

WILLIAM: I got bitten on my walk today by a Doberman

VANESSA: Oh no! Imagine if that had been a small child

WILLIAM: I'm pretty sure I could fight off a small child...

•••

MIKE: Quick question; how does someone relax? I'd like to try it

MIKE:

MIKE: I still need answers, aha

VANESSA: You okay there, buddy?

MIKE: Nope

•••

MIKE: Hey, can you keep a secret?

VANESSA: Do you know anything about my life?

MIKE: Good point.

•••

MIKE: Did you know that cutting out caffeine from your diet can help eliminate over 60%...of your will to live?

•••

MIKE, dumping out a shopping bag full of Lunchables onto the table: Tonight, Abby, we feast.

•••

MIKE: Help! I'm drowning!

VANESSA: Calm down. We're only in five feet of water!

MIKE: NOT ALL OF US ARE TALL!

•••

MIKE: With great power comes great need to take a nap. Wake me up later.

•••

WILLIAM: I feel like the young are out to get me.

•••

MIKE: If you don't pay my bills, I don't want your two cents.

•••

VANESSA: Do you cook?

MIKE: Yeah, I made a cake once.

ABBY: Yeah, it was good!

MIKE: Really?

ABBY: Don't make me lie twice, Mike

•••

ABBY: I love you guys, you're the best thing that's happened to me.

GOLDEN FREDDY: We're the best thing that's ever happened to you?

ABBY: Yes.

GOLDEN FREDDY: I'm starting to feel a little sorry for you.

•••

ABBY: Remember that time you dared me to lick that swing set?

MIKE: No. You said, "Wouldn't it be funny if I licked the swing?"

And I said, "Abby, don't lick the swing set." Then you replied, "Don't tell me what to do." And you licked the swing set.

•••

MIKE: This could work. All we need now is a bad cop.

VANESSA: I can do bad cop.

MIKE: I've only seen you do mildly irritated cop.

•••

ABBY: Did you lose your job because of me?

MIKE: Nah. The manager's a vampire and he wanted me to join his legion of the undead.

ABBY, under her breath: I knew it

•••

ABBY: In my defense, I was left unsupervised

VANESSA: Wasn’t Mike with you?

MIKE: In my defense, I was also left unsupervised

•••

[At Mike’s funeral]

WILLIAM, as Steve Raglan: *places his hand on Mike’s casket and sobs* How could you do this to me? We are so understaffed.

•••

VANESSA: You fainted. Do you remember anything?

MIKE: Only the ambulance ride

VANESSA: There wasn’t an ambulance. I drove you

MIKE: But I heard a siren?

VANESSA: That was Abby

ABBY: Sorry, I got scared

•••

VANESSA: Hey, guys, what are you watching?

ABBY: Kitten football. It came on and I’m invested. I think Mike’s getting into it too—Aww look. Snuggles fell asleep!

MIKE: SNUGGLES WAKE UP AND GET YOUR HEAD IN THE GAME!

VANESSA:

ABBY: I think we’re invested in the game for different reasons

•••

ABBY: A party is a celebration of a life, bringing people together to let the guest of honor know how much they're loved. Mike has done so much for us. This is our chance to do something for him.

VANESSA: By forcing him to have fun at a party that he doesn't want to be at?

ABBY: I knew you’d understand

•••

VANESSA: When we go out, I expect you to be on your best behavior

MIKE: That’s right. Listen to her, Abby

VANESSA: Mike, I was talking to you

••••

VANESSA: Where can I find this, “friend zone”? Because I need friends.

•••

ABBY: Do you guys have any healthy stress outlets?

MIKE: Screaming

WILLIAM: Murder

VANESSA: Manipulation

ABBY: Okay, screaming it is

•••

VANESSA: How are you feeling these days?

MIKE: Oh, much better now that I’m back in denial

•••

Movie!MIKE: Thirteen year old me would be both horrified and in awe of me

Game!MIKE: I'd punch thirteen year old me

#josh hutcherson #mike schmidt #mike schmidt fnaf #five nights at freddy's #fnaf #fnaf movie #mike and abby schmidt #fnaf incorrect quotes #incorrect fnaf quotes #incorrect quotes #funny stuff #i tried #happy thanksgiving

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wonwoonlight · 1 year

Text

everything and more; chapter 1 / choi seungcheol

➝ Seungcheol x single mom!Reader (feat. original characters, Jisoo, Jinyoung, Jeonghan, etc.)

➝ best friends to lovers // single mom!Reader // slowburn // fluff // angst // slice of life-ish

➝ wc: 5.2~k

➝ chapter warning: character death (its literally the plot sjhdfhsjbf), curses, cliche probably lol, not entirely proofread, nothing more that i can think of

➝ everything and more masterlist

[✾✾✾]

You used to say you wanted at least three children growing up.

But then your sister gave birth to one beautiful son, a nephew you love with everything your heart can offer and more, and, after seeing the hardship she went through, you decided motherhood isn't for you. You had never thought motherhood was easy, but seeing someone so close to you going through it was another experience altogether.

The thought of being the aunt that spoils their nephew to no end definitely seems like the better choice. Given, your sister's journey is probably harder than most because the father isn't in the picture and God knows how cruel the world can be to single mothers, especially those out of wedlock.

Still, you had lived with her for the first three months after she gave birth to help her around, and you’re 99% sure (the 1% you keep around just in case your words will bite you back in the ass) you would never be able to care for a child 24/7. Even babysitting during the day was hard, but she had to care for Seungyoon during day and night and you don’t even dare to imagine the amount of patience it took her to do that.

“Seungyoon is… how old now?” Jisoo asks as she bounces your nephew on her lap. You’re on babysitting duty today, as Yuri has a business trip to Suwon and you’ve convinced her to let you babysit Seungyoon. That sister of yours can be too hard headed for her own good when it comes to her son, which you understand to a certain point, but you don’t see why she should bring her toddler son to a business trip when you don’t even have work today and you’re her sister for a reason.

It’s always been you two; three now, with Seungyoon. You don’t have any other family and it’s okay as long as you have each other. You’ve found a lot of family along the way in other people: like Jisoo, your best friend since high school, and Seungcheol, another best friend of yours from university. Not to forget Jinyoung, Yuri’s only and closest friend who’s basically your big brother. You’re happy with this family and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

"He's three next month." You grin as your nephew giggles uncontrollably on Jisoo's lap, the way Seungcheol is poking his belly making his giggle louder by the seconds.

"Already?" Seungcheol exclaims, his mouth turning into a small 'o'. "Wow. Felt like it was just yesterday we visited Yuri after her labor."

"Right?" Jisoo sighs as she hugs the kid closer to her. She has always had a soft spot for him, to the point where she was probably more excited about Seungyoon's birth than you were almost three years ago. "Now this brat can already talk back if we try to make him eat his carrot."

Seungyoon scrunches in distaste at the mention of the vegetable, frowning at Jisoo like she has personally offended him. "Auntie. No carrot."

"Why do you not like carrots though?" Seungcheol intercepts, indulging him.

"Yuck." His frown deepens, followed by a yawn that makes its way out of his small lips.

"They're good for your eyes, you know." You poke his cheek to gain his attention and, just like that, the little kid turns to you and extends his arms so you'd take him to your lap instead. It's something he often does when his mom isn't around; seeks for your warmth when he's sleepy or uncomfortable. Because you're you and you're always there together with his mom that his mind already registers you as another safe place for him. It's something that Yuri has taught him too, to find you or Uncle Jinyoung if she's not there.

"Sleepy?" You take him into your arms and whisper with a soft kiss on top of his head, the way you endlessly caress his hair lulling him to sleep. "We'll go home in a bit, okay?"

Seungyoon doesn't answer, simply buries his face in your chest as sleep overcomes him bit by bit.

Almost an hour goes by just like that, with the three of you quietly continuing the discussion in the cafe, talking about work and whatnot as your fingers absentmindedly comb through Seungyoon's hair even if he's already asleep at this point.

"Hey, didn't you go on a date or something last week?"

Seungcheol looks at you, nods, then shrugs, not giving any details until Jisoo prods, prods, and prods. You're thankful she does it for you, because you're actually also curious but don't really have the heart to force it out of him.

Seungcheol is a romantic. Has always been particular with the girls he wants to date. If he's not interested, then he wouldn't spare them a glance. If he's only remotely interested, he'd still be skeptical and find a hundred reasons not to agree on a date. There's just something bothersome about going out with someone he doesn't know without anyone else present.

You and Jisoo have been encouraging him to go on dates though, if only because it's been too long and you recognize the longing in his eyes everytime he sees his friends with their partners. He claims he's not currently looking for a relationship, but it's also been quite some time since he even goes out with anyone other than you two, and that's why you've been telling him to be more open at least for the first meetings. If he doesn't want to continue from then, then it's up to him. But how would he find someone–anyone if he doesn't even want to go on the first date?

"It was okay… but, nothing special. She's nice and we have some common interests but…" His gaze falls on Seungyoon on your lap, then caresses his head as if seeking some sort of comfort from the little boy. "Not interested in a second date."

Jisoo is about to argue, probably meaning to convince him to tell more, but her phone rings and she immediately picks up when she sees her fiance's name. Jeonghan rarely calls when she's out with you both, that's a rule they've decided together: to respect the time they spend with their friends. So she knows it must be important if he calls her instead of leaving a text.

You see her panic the longer the call goes, hand already busy packing up her stuff as you barely hear Jeonghan's faint voice calmly speak through the phone.

"Jeonghan’s sister got into an accident." Jisoo relays the information once he hangs up, voice shaking, and worry floods over you despite not knowing the girl personally. "I… I need to go. She's being taken to the hospital now."

"Want me to drive you?" Seungcheol offers, but Jisoo shakes her head and says she's going home first, that she'll go with Jeonghan because the accident isn't in Seoul and, even if he didn't mention it, she knows he needs her with him.

"Update us?" You try to be calm for her, your palm caresses her arm in comfort.

"I will." She bites her lip in worry, looking at the map on her phone that indicates the location of the taxi she's just ordered. "She's… she's on a trip with her friend and she's supposed to come home today. But there's an accident on Seocho and it's quite a big one because a loading truck caused it."

You blink at the location, the transition between your heart dropping then speeding up as the worst case scenario goes through your mind is a matter of seconds. Yuri would need to go through Seocho too on her way back from Suwon.

It's only 3PM now. If she's on a business trip, surely she would go home later in the evening, right? Fuck, your phone is in your bag and you can’t take it without waking your nephew. You just had to put it on ‘do not disturb’ too, though you’ve made sure to let it ring if a call goes through.

Your tendency to spiral into worst case scenarios makes it hard to convince yourself everything’s fine because it hasn’t rung. You’re dying to just call Yuri and listen to her calling you dumb for worrying; because she’s okay and she’ll be home in a few hours. That you need to calm down because she promises she’s okay.

Jisoo doesn’t seem to notice the shift in your mood due to her own stress, but Seungcheol does and he doesn’t address it until Jisoo bids you two goodbye along with a soft kiss on Seungyoon’s head. He shifts closer to you, his palm reaching your shoulder before he asks if you’re okay.

“Can you get my phone, please?” You say instead, the tremble in your voice worries him. He goes through your bag like you ask him to, then hands you the device as he notices the way your arm tightens around Seungyoon.

You’re so tense that he almost reminds you to breathe, he sees you scroll but it seems like you find nothing by the way you’re biting your lip. Then he sees you type, another sigh escapes your lips as you anxiously stare at your screen. Before he can ask if something’s wrong, you bring your phone to your ear, an endless ring greeting your ear because whoever you’re calling isn’t picking up.

“Okay, talk to me.” Seungcheol finally says, his voice soft but firm. The way you’re looking at him isn’t helping at all, and he sees you gripping your phone like it has personally wronged you. “What’s wrong?”

“Yuri is in Suwon.”

“Okay?”

“She–she’d need to go through Seocho to go back to Seoul, right?” He nods, finally grasping your worry. “She’s not replying to my texts nor my calls and I’m–I don’t know, I’m freaking out.”

He doesn’t want to brush off your worries, because he knows how much Yuri means to you and he understands how your train of thoughts might’ve gone in the short span of time between Jisoo’s news and your current condition. But he’s not sure how to calm you down without sounding like he’s downplaying your worries; so he takes the one route that he knows would at least remind you that you need to get it together.

“Hey. Breathe, okay? You’ll wake Seungyoon up.” He whispers like it’s a secret, and you take a long, deep breath as you nod. Seungcheol has always had that effect on you; to make you calm down and be your pillar when you need someone to be. Jisoo is a little blunt and harsh at times, another type of friend you’re glad you have in life because you definitely need someone like her to knock senses into your head. But that means you don’t always go to her when you’re looking for comfort and validation. That role is Seungcheol’s and, while he can be strict at times, he’s better at sympathizing with your feelings (or everyone else’s, really) than anyone. “Maybe Yuri’s in a meeting and she’s not with her phone?”

He’s probably right, but the feeling inside your gut is starting to root deeper and deeper within you the more time passes by, it’s ugly and it’s unpleasant. Like you can feel something is going entirely wrong though you can’t tell if you’re making things up or not at this point. You try to find comfort in Seungyoon’s sleeping form, his cheek pressed against your shoulder and his arms limp on his sides.

It works along with the deep breath Seungcheol reminds you once again to take, and when your phone does ring thirty minutes later, it’s Seungcheol who takes it because Seungyoon squirms in your arms at the sudden noise.

It’s an unknown number, but the way his jaw tenses at whatever he’s hearing is making your heart twist with worry. You can’t even try to understand what they’re saying, because Seungcheol doesn’t say anything but ‘yes’, but it must be important if he’s still listening, and the last thing you heard before he hangs up is not a sentence you wish to hear in midst of your worry. We’ll be there as soon as possible. Thank you for informing us.

The way he looks at you makes your throat tightens, you can probably feel dread at the tip of your tongue. You hold Seungyoon tighter for the sake of your sanity, the toddler has fallen back to sleep. When Seungcheol speaks, your eyes blur with tears and you hate the way you already know what he’s saying before he even finishes his sentence.

The one time you wish you were wrong, you just have to be right.

“Yuri’s in the hospital. She’s in the ICU and we need to get there immediately.”

You’re trying your best not to bawl on your way there, thankful for Seungcheol as he drives as fast as he’s allowed to, Seungyoon no longer asleep but cluelessly plays with your hair as he obediently stays on your lap. It’s like he knows you’re not okay, knows not to throw a tantrum and not to ask to sit by himself at the back like he usually would.

Like he knows you need him with you to keep you sane.

Seungcheol looks calm, but the way his palm grips yours obviously indicates otherwise and you try to distract yourself from all the worst possibilities in your mind by thinking of how lucky you are to have him with you of all people. You know he’s worried out of his mind too, but he still takes your hand because he knows you need it, knows that it helps to keep you grounded even if you have your nephew on your lap.

It doesn’t last for long though, and you don’t know what to think of Seungcheol’s lack of explanation. Yes, he confirmed that Yuri is also involved in the same accident as Jeonghan’s sister, but he didn’t say anything else. But does he really need to when he’s already said Yuri is in the ICU? If she had been okay, she would be in the ER at most; but they felt the need to take her to the ICU and that must be saying something.

Did the speaker not say anything to him? Or does he simply not want to give you empty hopes?

“Hey.” His voice brings you out of your trance and you squeeze his hand out of reflex. “I’ll be here, okay?”

You tear up again and nod, your arm that’s around your nephew tightens.

Seungyoon shifts at this, buries himself in your neck and wraps his arms around your neck like he knows you need it more than you do.

[✾✾✾]

Jinyoung is already there when you arrive, and he hugs you tight like he’s preparing you for bad news, like he needs to calm you down because whatever follows after isn’t going to be pleasant.

Seungyoon is in Seungcheol’s arms, breaking the older man’s heart by asking why they’re in the doctor’s place over and over again. Seungcheol assures him he’s not going to get shot when the toddler almost cries saying he doesn’t want to see the doctor today, promises to buy him ice cream later on if he doesn’t cry and stays in his arms.

“Is… is it bad?” You manage to choke between your tears. Jinyoung is rarely unkept, but he’s disheveled and if he’s like this then you don’t know if you want to hear what he has to say. You’re sure the doctor has filled him in on something, Jinyoung is registered as both your and Yuri’s emergency contact and if he’s here before you do, they must have told him something.

He takes a few moments to compose himself and arranges his words, his hands holding yours like it’s his lifeline.

“They aren’t sure she’s going to make it.”

More tears spill out of your eyes, though you try to contain your sob because Seungyoon is right behind you with Seungcheol, though when Jinyoung gives your friend a look, he’s quick to take Seungyoon somewhere out of sight so you can finally cry, cry, and cry until your tears dry out.

Yuri might not make it. You swallow the words like needles between your throat, your lips trembling as you stubbornly try to contain your despair. But when Jinyoung pulls you once again into his chest and whispers words of comfort you wish you could tell Yuri who’s by herself in the operating room, the dam breaks and you grip the front of his shirt like it’s the only thing you know how to do.

You don’t want to think of the worst case scenario. Don’t want to think of a life without your sister. But how can you not when you’ve been there in front of the OR for two hours? How can you not when your consciousness is going in and out of your head and the only thing that reminds you you’re awake is Seungcheol’s soft breath and the steady pattern of his heartbeat?

“Drink something?” He asks, his voice hesitant. You haven’t talked at all since Jinyoung told you Yuri might not make it, and you’re thankful Seungcheol doesn’t force you to either when he comes back with your nephew in tow. Jinyoung fills him in quickly between whispers before taking the kid with him and Seungcheol doesn’t waste a second to hold you because you look like you’re seconds away from fainting.

You shake your head even though your throat is dry and you honestly feel like you’re about to pass out any moment now. The only thing that’s keeping you here right now is Seungcheol: he’s basically plastered to you and he refuses to let go of you since earlier, which you appreciate so much because you don’t know if you even have it in you to sit straight without him by your side. You’ve just been spacing out in his embrace for two hours straight, his arm around you and your forehead on the juncture of his neck.

“Mommy?” Seungyoon’s voice brings you out of your trace, and you find him with Jinyoung, though the boy immediately lets go of his hand once he sees the state you’re in. Seungyoon only calls you that when he thinks you’re sad, a nickname that Yuri has always encouraged him for because even if he doesn’t have a father, she makes sure to let him know that he has two mothers who would do everything for him and you’re one of them.

He calls Yuri Mama, and he usually calls you ‘Mi’ because it’s easier than ‘Mommy’. He very rarely calls you by the latter because no one refers to you as such and he’s not used to it most of the time. But he knows you usually smile when he does it, which is why he only calls you that way when he thinks you’re upset.

“Mommy okay?” He climbs into your lap, making your eyes water once again. God, this precious child might lose his own mother and he doesn’t know. He doesn’t know a thing and you pray once again to every deity in existence that you wouldn’t need to tell Seungyoon he wouldn’t be able to see his mom again.

He frowns when you don’t giggle like you usually would, though you do force a smile as you pull him into a hug.

“I’m sorry I left you with Uncle Jinyoung.” You say instead, not wanting to lie to the kid when you’re obviously not okay. “He’s boring, isn’t he?”

His small giggle warms you a little, but then he shakes his head and tells you Uncle Jinyoung is fun today and he buys him food earlier. You hum as he continues to blabber, mouthing a ‘thank you’ to Jinyoung when he catches your eyes.

“Yoon, will you tell Mi to drink water?” Seungcheol hands the bottle to your nephew, knowing full well you can’t resist him. You pretend to glare at him, aware that Seungcheol knows how grateful you are with him by your side. Seungcheol has just texted Jisoo that you’re both in the hospital for Yuri, and she promises she’ll drop by as soon as possible after informing him that thankfully Jeonghan’s sister is okay even though she has a minor concussion.

“Mi, water.” He repeats after the older man, his hands can barely hold the water bottle straight.

You thank him as you take a gulp, only now realizing how thirsty you actually are. Seungyoon shifts to play with your hair, still blissfully unaware why you’re all in the hospital, though he’s just happy in his bubble to be surrounded by you and his uncles.

For a second, you let a little bit of hope pass through you. You hope it can stay peaceful like this, with Seungyoon in your arms as you pretend you’re waiting for Yuri to come home.

Yeah, you’re waiting for her to come out, aren’t you?

Right–you’re so going to give her hell for all the worry and tears she made you shed. For making you lose it in front of Seungyoon and making you cry in front of Jinyoung, of all people. Yuri is in for a lot of nagging once she wakes up. Sick or not, you’re still going to scream at her and you’re going to hug her tight because it doesn’t make sense how deep the dread she makes you feel right now.

Yeah, that’s what you’re going to do.

She’s going to make it. She might not wake up immediately after the surgery, but you’re going to do all that when she wakes up and–

Min Yuri’s family?

And you’re going to lock her in a headlock like you usually would when she’s being annoying–

We’re sorry…

And you’re going to bawl into her chest like you used to when you were six–

…tried out best…

And she’s going to laugh at you because she never knows what to do when you cry–

…too weak and…

But she’ll still hug you back because that’s what sisters are for–

…we’re sorry.

Because you only have each other.

Only have each other.

Had each other.

Your eyes get more and more blurry by the seconds, everything came crashing all over your body from head to toe, it’s getting harder to breathe, someone is holding you and—

You don’t know what happened after.

[✾✾✾]

On your eighteenth birthday, Yuri gave you a silver band and said you’re not allowed to take it off unless someone she approved of proposed. That you’re only allowed to take it off on your wedding day where she’d definitely be your maid of honor because who else would?

It’s a promise that I’ll be with you until I’m sure someone else will take care of you as well as I do.

You have never taken off your ring since then, never had any intention to, either. But now that you stare at it as you pack her belongings in her place, you want nothing but to rip it off your finger like it burns.

Didn’t she promise to be with you until then?

Didn’t she promise to make sure that whoever’s going to marry you is worthy of taking her ring off for?

Didn’t she fucking promise you she wouldn’t leave you behind like your parents did?

“Hey. Maybe it’s time to rest?” You look up at Seungcheol who’s hovering on the door. He looks only a little better than you are, but who can blame him when he hasn’t gone home at all since that day in the hospital? He’s been with you since then; Jisoo and Jinyoung take turns going back and forth, even Jeonghan stays for a bit when he has the time.

Seungcheol was with you when you spent that night in the hospital, when you cried next to Yuri’s body before they closed the coffin, when you went home with Seungyoon to your place because you couldn’t bear to go to Yuri’s place just yet, and now, when you finally gathered the courage to go to her place and pack her stuff because who else will?

“Don’t you have work?” You ask instead, feeling bad that he’s been with you basically 24/7 the past week.

“You know my work allows me to work from anywhere.” He smiles a little before taking the seat next to you on the floor. “Let’s get lunch? Seungyoon says he wants jjajangmyeon.”

Seungyoon. Your poor child. You don’t think he really understands what’s happening. Jinyoung had kindly taken over your role to relay the information to the kid, but he had simply asked if his mom was going somewhere when Jinyoung said he wouldn’t be able to see her anymore.

You’re sure he would’ve cried seeing you bawl if not for Seungcheol quickly pulling you with him and holding you in his arms as you tried your best to block your sob, barely making out the conversation between the two.

Mama is in heaven now.

“Is it nice?”

Hmm. The best. But you won’t be able to see her anymore.

“Even if I miss her?”

Yes. It’s too far and if she has to come here, she’ll get very tired and might even get sick. We don’t want that, right?

“But what if I want see Mama?”

Then you’ll have to wait until the sky turns dark and the stars are visible. Mama is one of the stars now. Is that okay?

“But… there are so many…”

Seungyoon is smart, though. Aren’t you?

“Hmm..”

Then I’m sure you’ll know which one is Mama?

“Mmm… Want Mommy… Where’s Mommy?”

“Mommy?” Seungyoon has been calling you that often now. You’re not sure if he’s simply too confused or if it’s because you’ve been looking too upset these days, but his small voice always makes your heart clenches in the most painful way possible because it sounds like he knows he can’t call his own mom anymore. It’s getting harder and harder to hear him call you anything of the sort because it reminds you that his Mama is no longer around. “Hungry.”

Jisoo looks at you in apology from the door. She’s been with Seungyoon earlier, telling him they have to pack his toys because he’ll be moving with you and no longer live there. The boy has been more quiet these days, and you feel bad because you think he’s quiet because he’s tired and he doesn’t know what’s happening; why you barely talk and why his mom is not here.

“Uncle Cheol said you want jjajangmyeon?” You say as you take him in your arms, the boy suddenly shy as he nods and buries himself in your neck. “Do you want to eat outside or here?”

“Out okay?” he asks, almost hesitant. Then continues to make your heart hurt when he says his next words. “Mommy always inside these days…”

“Oh, baby.” You bite your lip and murmur an apology against his forehead. The way you hug him is more for you then it is for Seungyoon, but he tightens his arms around you also and asks once again if it’s okay to eat outside. “We can. Let’s go with Uncle Cheol and Auntie Choo, yeah?”

Seungcheol opts to go to the jjajangmyeon place you used to go to during university instead of the one nearby. It takes almost an hour to get there, but he thinks you need it and he’s sure the owner of the jjajangmyeon place near Yuri’s apartment would definitely be asking about her–which you definitely don’t need.

It’s been quite some time since Seungyoon went anywhere too, so he figures he could at least give that to the kid.

“Been some time since we went here, huh?” It really has. The last time was probably a year ago or something, because life gets in the way and even though you’ve been saying you wanted to come here again, the both of you are always too lazy and the university seems too far away even if it’s not really.

Still, the owner recognizes you two and happily takes your order which hasn't changed since the time you were in university.

Apparently, the old lady hasn’t changed either, because her eyes sparkle with interest as she sees Seungyoon in your arms. You dread her question already, knowing what she’d ask before she even does.

But as much as you expected her words, nothing prepared you for her whole sentences.

“Oh my. Is this your kid? He looks so much like you. I knew you two would get married one day.” She says as she addresses you and Seungcheol, way too excited to notice the horrified look you share with your best friend, nor Jisoo who’s trying her best not to laugh at the sudden turn of events.

You don’t even get the chance to deny her statement, because she already turns back to the kitchen then returns just as quick, giving Seungyoon a pack of jelly that’s supposedly her grandson’s.

“What a nice kid.” She smiles at Seungyoon who thanks her with a cheeky smile, the boy clutches the jelly like you’d take it any moment now. “My grandson used to cry all the time at his age. What a nice mom you have, hmm? She’s brought you up really well.”

“Mommy the best.” Seungyoon replies cheekily, which concludes the conversation because that seems to be enough for the owner to leave your table.

Once again, you’re thankful Seungcheol is beside you as you exhale a deep breath and try to swallow your tears on his shoulder. This is just a taste of what you’d need to deal with more in the future; people mistaking you as Seungyoon’s mom and you’ll somehow get the credit for everything Yuri did to make sure Seungyoon grew up well.

It’s not fair.

Nothing is and you hate that there’s nothing you can do about it.

“Mommy?” Seungyoon tugs softly on your hair to catch your attention. “Feed me?”

You tear up again at this, because Seungyoon has actually been insisting on eating by himself the past few months, saying he’s a big boy and that he can manage eating by himself. Does he know? That you need him to depend on you? That you need something to distract you?

“Want Mommy to feed me.” He repeats, his voice faltering at your lack of response. How long have you been neglecting him? How selfish can you be, drowning in your own sorrow like Seungyoon hasn’t lost his own mother? He’s probably even more lost than you are, with Yuri gone and you disassociating for a whole week.

You’re lucky Seungyoon has always been a nice kid, that he simply accepts that his aunt and uncles were to take care of him for the week.

How fucking selfish can you be?

“Yeah.” You square your shoulder and drop a kiss on his head. It’s not only you that needs him, you remind yourself. Seungyoon also needs you and you’re going to give everything you have and more if it means he’s happy and healthy. “Mommy will feed you, okay?”

[✾✾✾]

A/N: i hope you enjoyed this aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa pls do send me your thoughts and feedbacks through ask or anything bc i'm still a writer that needs ur words to continue writing lol<3

series taglist: @cheolctrl @nap-of-a-starr @shiningstar-byulxx @itsveronicaxxx @shuahoshiscoups

➝ taglist is open, pls send me an ask instead of replying to the post so it's easier to keep track of the taglist!

[I don’t allow any reposting or translation, so please do tell me if you find anyone reposting my works. You can only find me on tumblr or my Ao3. –wonwoonlight.]

#caratwritersclub #seungcheol angst #scoups angst #seventeen angst #seventeen fluff #seventeen au #seventeen fic #seventeen imagine #seventeen scenarios #seungcheol scenarios #seungcheol fluff #seungcheol scenario #scoups imagines #scoups scenarios #scoups fluff #scoups fanfic #seventeen x reader #log: everything and more

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vivalski · 1 year

Note

People wondering about Drunk Steve and honestly I think Steve’s such a Mom™️ and, also;

“A cosmopolitan? Really dingus?”

Steve, sips his cosmo, dressed to the nines because when he goes out drinking and actually wants to drink he’s got to gussy up because that’s what happens when you are, as the Reba theme song goes; 🎵 A single mom who works too hard, who loves her kids and never stops 🎶 so any occasion to go out that doesn’t involve snacks and token money must not be taken for granted.

“You guys laugh it up and drink your swill.”

“Man, you look like a waspy mom or like a Sex and The City mom, you know, trying to figure out which character you are. Cosmos are for old ladies.”

“Yeah man you’re a Charlotte. Charlotte’s not even the cool one!” Robin says, surprisingly.

Nancy tilts her head.

“It’s weird that you can accurately categorize Steve as Charlotte. Didn’t know you were a fan.”

“Oh is that the tight assed yuppie one? Cuz it fits!” Eddie and Robin stare at Steve and laugh.

Nancy giggles.

“One,” Steve puts down his fancy glass and glares at the three. “I am proudly a Charlotte. She’s a solid somewhat neurotic character who knows what she wants and goes for it despite the romantic foibles. She got Harry. We should all be so lucky to have Harry. And two,” he points at them, listing their drinking faults on by one.

“You,” Points to Robin with a sneer. “Drink shit vodka out of the plastic bottle, two chugs and your so drunk you scream profanities in the night and keep trying to get us to dare you to kiss Nancy.”

Robin blushes, puts down her glass of clear vodka.

“Yeah,” Nancy looks at Robin confusedly. “Whats up with that?”

“You!” Points to Nancy, she jumps. “Actually like Goldschlager and commit crimes like a feral mongoose and lord forbid you stop at that felony because, no, you’re constant mooning and flashing people of authority. Hopper still can’t look you in the eye after the sheriff’s station incident.”

Nancy blushes, glares and pushes her tall glass to the side. It glimmers in the light.

Eddie giggles, actually giggles at her.

“I still can’t believe you photocopied your ass and left a stack in a folder on his desk.”

“She labeled them important.” Robin grins. “And stole all the illicit evidence.”

“So. Much. Weed.” Eddie grins.

“And handcuffs!”

Steve takes another sip, and then pokes Eddie hard in the chest.

“And. You.”

“And…me?” Eddie points to himself.

“You hit on me constantly, Eddie.”

“I really do.” Agrees, unashamed.

“You try to take off your clothes.”

“I get hot when I’m drunk.” Shrugs.

“You ordered $500 worth of pizza and wings to be delivered to Carver‘s house. With his parents credit card information which you somehow have.”

“Totally guilty.” Nods.

“And that’s not counting the time before that, when you got drunk and you paid two lesbian hookers to show up at his house to perform on each other in front of his mother’s dinner party. And they were paid to also say that Jason was the one who paid them and scheduled this private showing!”

“You know he’s in an all boys Catholic school because of me, right?” Says proudly.

“And the worst part about all of this, because I could excuse it all if you were drinking some sort of crazy hard obscure liquor but it’s not even that. You get White Claw drunk like some white sorority girl on spring break. What the hell is that?”

“…”

Nancy and Robin sip there drinks at the awkward silence.

“I’m not apologizing.”

Turns out Steve is a judgmental drunk. Or buzzed.

Just a bunch of silly goofballs, I adore them.

Thank you so much for this, you made my day ;o;

#I need to continue the drunk series damn #I wish I understood the Sex and the city refs tho #never watched it #fruity four #steddie #ronance

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nanami1chu · 10 days

Text

I’m sorry for any spelling errors!!

I just wanna put this out here, I been dreaming about for like two weeks it’s like a series in my head. So this happens when Alastor was still alive, he falls in love with a woman who was a bit younger than him, she was a sweet doll. They slept together once!(sexually, they were each others first) But they were never officially a couple, Alastor wanted to but hasn’t made a move on it (cuz he was busy killing). So after they slept together she founds out she’s pregnant, since she was younger than him she was scared to tell him because they weren’t even in a relationship and didn’t want to ruin his career and reputation, (she kinda knew what he did at night another reason why she was scared that he was gonna hurt her or the baby, still loved him) but she was just scared so she told her family and her family sent her way and she never told Alastor. He was kinda of heartbroken when he found out couple days later that she moved away. Her family wouldn’t give him any information where or how to contact her. So he never saw her again.

That’s the basics of it!

Anywho, so she’s pregnant with twins one boy one girl (girl looked like her mom while the boy is a copy of their father), Alastor dies 3 week later when the twins where born, a hard working single mother. She did talk about their father to her kids and what he was like also looked like with the one picture she had. Years later mother dies of a sickness when the twins are 18 years old. (Mother goes to heaven)

The point of this is that the twins took up, dark magic, same as their father, but didn’t know that he did that to.

(Idk why but I like the names Maddie(boy) and Louisa(girl) for the twins, the boy is older by a couple minutes or months idk how the twin thing works )

By now the twins are 20 years old and for some reason Lou (short for Louisa) wants to know more about the mysterious Alastor, who is known to be their father. So she’s going through looking for information, anything about him. She just feels a little sad she never got a dad like the other girls she went to school with or when in middle school she couldn’t go to the Father daughter dance. She just wanted a little bit of a father figure while Maddie wasn’t really interested in knowing about their father, he sees their “father” as a guy who’s just a guy.

(As you can see both Daddy issues in two different ways, Maddie more of a mommy’s boy also was very protective of their mother when alive, and sister. Promising his mother to look after his sister)

I have more to this but I wanna get into what kind of powers the twins have.

Louisa ability is more of a witch more like the Scarlet witch but she’s more a soft girl so she doesn’t really use it for evil. She very more connected to nature (like kiri from Avatar). She is the kindest person you’ll meet, she’s every understanding about others (she’s someone you can talk to without feeling judged) she doesn’t really care if she’s hurt physically, but emotionally not just to her but to the ones she loves… things get dark.

Maddie is more of a… fuck around and found out will inflict pain on you for just looking at them or his sister in the wrong way , like Alastor smiles a lot too, I wouldn’t say he’s soft but he’s very aware of his emotions but it’s hard for him to talk about it( rather suffer in silence) ability is… it’s kind a like Alastor, but not really, but the form of it is also a Wendigo. he does know dark magic like spells, but he transforms into a beast like a Wendigo. (yk how Alastor and his shadow are like “friends?” They talk to each other and stuff) well Maddie has that too but it’s not a shadow kinda more a (venom) thing of his Wendigo who is his friend and they are bound together.

I have more but I can’t put it into words for right now Alastor does come up in this and meets the twins but this right here is more about them

More outfits

#alastor #alastor hazbin hotel #alastor headcanons #alastor human #alastor x reader #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel #the radio demon #alastor hartfelt #alastor the radio demon #cursed cat alastor

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teaberrii · 1 year

Text

Chapter Ten: Surprise, Surprise

Alhaitham has the looks and the smarts. He will also be the stand-in CEO for his grandfather's company for a year.

But, he's been mysteriously cursed to turn into a cat every night since his eighteenth birthday… until he meets you, an employee at his grandfather's company, who rescues him as a cat and changes him back with one kiss.

Alhaitham/You

Notes:

Cross-posted on AO3

Female reader

Chapter index at the end of chapter one

“I was only gone for a few minutes!” Kaveh says as Alhaitham calmly gets off of you. “Y’all just couldn’t wait, could you?”

You sit up, your heart still racing from what had happened. Should you be thankful or disappointed that Kaveh showed up? You almost pulled Alhaitham closer, imagining what his lips would feel like against yours. But maybe you should be thankful… because there would be no going back.

You and Kaveh leave Alhaitham’s room as the man gets dressed. You’re keeping Kaveh company in the kitchen as he gets the takeout food ready.

“Haitham told me a bit about you.”

“Good things, I hope,” you joke.

Kaveh turns to you and puts a hand on the kitchen counter. “I’ve never heard him talk so fondly about someone before.” Then, he looks past you. “Why don’t you tell her, Haitham?”

Alhaitham walks up beside you, fully dressed. You meet his gaze, but you’re the first to look away.

“Doing so would only be for your enjoyment,” Alhaitham says flatly to his ex-roommate.

Kaveh laughs. “Fine. You got me there, Kittyman.”

As the evening goes on, you learn a lot about Kaveh and Alhaitham. Some include that they don't have siblings. Their parents are also still overseas. That's when Kaveh decides to ask you about your family.

“Haitham said you have two younger siblings,” Kaveh says.

“Aether and Lumine," you say. "They're twins."

“Raising three kids….” Kaveh sucks in a small breath as he pours you and Alhaitham more tea. “I can’t imagine how much work that would be.”

“I couldn’t either,” you say. “...Which was why I was so surprised when my mom wanted to adopt. I thought I was enough work already.”

Kaveh and Alhaitham glance at each other at this new piece of information. “Aether and Lumine are adopted?” Alhaitham asks.

You nod. “They were around ten years old when we adopted them. They’ve been through a lot of different families before then.”

“...Must’ve been hard on them,” Kaveh says.

“Yeah. They didn’t want to be separated. That made it hard… some families just wanted one child.”

“What made your mother want to adopt?” Alhaitham asks.

You chuckle softly. “That’s… a long story, Catman.”

“Well, we got the time,” Kaveh says. “I’m curious too, honestly.”

"My mother loves kids, so she always wanted a big family. But… not long after they had me, my father got into an accident."

“...Oh, geez,” Kaveh says quietly.

"He was left bedridden for many years," you continue softly. "...My mother took care of him until she decided to take him off life support at his request."

You feel someone’s fingers brush against yours. It’s Alhaitham’s.

“Did your mother ever remarry?” Kaveh asks.

"No." Then, you sigh. "It was only her and me for a while." When Alhaitham sees you hesitating, he gently puts his hand on yours. You give him a slight smile. "Even though she was a single mother, she wanted more kids. It wasn't until after things settled down that she looked into adopting since she was at an age where it was risky to get pregnant again."

“...And that’s how she found Aether and Lumine.”

“Yes,” you say to Alhaitham. “Maybe it was fate.”

“I guess that’s something you believe in,” Kaveh says, looking at you.

“I never thought you’d ask such a thought-provoking question.”

“These things are usually left to Haitham, right?” Kaveh shrugs. “I bet he’s curious about your thoughts, too.”

You glance at Alhaitham, who's looking at you intently. "...Well, the accident was out of my mother's control. But, if we continued to dwell on the past, nothing would change. My mother wouldn't have thought to adopt, and we wouldn't have met Lumine and Aether. So… I think everyone has more than one fate, but it's our actions that determine which path we take."

Kaveh smiles knowingly but keeps quiet about his thoughts.

“...I’m sorry about what happened to your father,” Alhaitham says. “You must’ve been young when that happened.”

Your bottom lip curls inwards as you nod. There’s more to the story, but it’s something you don’t want to share. Not at this time, at least, as it deals with your… troubled past. Perhaps Alhaitham picks up your hesitation as he doesn’t pursue the matter further.

“You know..." you say, "You could probably pass as their brother, Kaveh.”

“Me?”

You show him a photo of Lumine and Aether just as Alhaitham says, “I can see it.”

Kaveh leans closer to your phone. “Whoa… we do look a little alike, huh?” Then, he swings his arm around you. “Should I call you Sis from now on?”

"Are you the long lost brother?" you joke.

“What do you think, Haitham?”

Alhaitham subtly smiles. “Sounds like a plot to a story.”

You laugh. "Should I give you royalty fees if I use it?"

“Hey, hey, don’t forget about me!”

“We already have,” Alhaitham says.

Kaveh rolls his eyes. “Yeesh, why does it feel like I’m interrupting something?” Then, he leans back. “Oh, wait. I already did, didn’t I?”

“That—”

Kaveh waves his hand dismissively. “Just close the door next time, would you?” He smiles at Alhaitham. “Still, did you find out anything interesting about your curse so far?”

“She has to be the one to initiate it,” Alhaitham says. “It doesn’t work if I kiss her.”

“Kitty kisses are out of the question, huh?” Kaveh turns to you. “Careful, Sis. He’ll probably suffocate you with them in a fight to get on your good side.”

You glance at Alhaitham with an amused smile. “Nah. He’ll probably leave scratch marks.”

“Oh, it sounds like you speak from experience already. How far have you two gone?!” Kaveh looks down, “On second thought, don’t answer that.”

You shake your head with a small smile.

◆◆◆

It’s the day before the Awards Night, and you’re sitting at home reading Heart’s Desire when you hear a knock at the door. You already know who it is as it’s the day you’re meeting Alhaitham’s grandfather.

When you open the door, Alhaitham is dressed in a black dress shirt that's tucked neatly into his dark grey pants with a black belt. It’s something that you’ve noticed; he always dresses in dark colours, and he almost always leaves the first two buttons of his dress shirts unbuttoned. You get a whiff of his cologne along with his shampoo.

"You make me feel underdressed," you say.

Nonsense. Your casual, high-waisted plaid skirt and white turtleneck look great on you. Alhaitham doesn't know what it is, but the black pantyhose adds a nice touch to the outfit.

"How?" he asks. Then, he smiles slightly. "This outfit suits you."

Alhaitham is driving toward the hospital with you in the passenger seat when you ask about the kind of person his grandfather is. It's not like you're unfamiliar with him, but you've only seen the professional side. You're curious about what he's like without the corporate mask.

“...It seems like you want to make a good impression,” Alhaitham asks with an amused smile.

"W-Well, wouldn't you if you're meeting your boss? I know I'm meeting him as… your friend, but he's still the CEO. So I don't want him to think I'm unprofessional."

Ah. So, you’re treating this more like a professional meeting. Makes sense. But…

"Would your attitude and stance change if you met him as my girlfriend?"

You quickly turn to him. “What kind of question is that?”

“A genuine one.”

“I… suppose it wouldn’t be too different. That’s a different kind of pressure, though.”

Does this mean you wouldn't want to date him? Because of the pressure?

“Has your mother asked you about us?”

"Not a lot, surprisingly," you answer. "She hasn't mentioned matchmaking parties since that day, though." You sigh. "I guess she's waiting for those pictures and an update after our date." When you see him smiling, you raise a brow. "Um, what's with that smile?"

"Well, it's not like we'll stay at the hospital all day. So if you don't have any plans tonight, can I take you out?"

“Tonight?”

Alhaitham glances at you. “You sound surprised.”

“It’s just so sudden.”

“We’re already out.” When the car slowly pulls to a stop in front of a red spotlight, he turns to you. “...And you’re dressed so nicely today. It would be a waste."

“You’re full of surprises, aren’t you?” you say with a small smile.

“Can I take that as a yes?”

You chuckle. “Well, Catman, I have high expectations.”

“That only makes me want to exceed them.”

You hold his stare but ultimately look away with a short laugh. “Let’s see what you got.”

Alhaitham pulls up to the hospital a short while later. As he parks the car and shifts the gears, he asks, "Did you tell Aether you'd be coming today?"

“I didn’t, actually,” you say, unbuckling your seatbelt. “I thought I’d surprise him.”

You didn’t know it’d be the other way around.

When you and Alhaitham arrive on your brother’s floor, you’re surprised to see him standing in front of a scared-looking Ayaka and glaring at two bigger boys.

“Aether?” you ask, quickly walking over.

Your brother turns to you, his eyes wide. “Sis? What are you doing here?”

One of the boys scoffs loudly. “Sis? That old woman is your sister?”

“Fuck off,” Aether spat.

The other boy grabs Aether by the collar, and you immediately glare at him. “Let him go.”

The boy looks at you. “And if I don’t?”

“This is a hospital,” you say sternly.

“So? Besides, your brother’s at fault. He messed with us first.”

“You were harassing her!” Aether says loudly.

Alhaitham is keeping a close eye on the situation when he sees Ayato out of the corner of his eye. The actor notices Alhaitham but quickly turns his attention to the scene in front of him.

“Ayaka?”

"We weren't harassing her," the boy says. He pushes Aether, but Alhaitham and Ayato steady him before he hits the ground.

The boy approaches Ayaka, but you step in front of her. "She clearly doesn't want your company," you say sternly. "Leave her alone."

“What’s an old woman like you gonna do?”

The boy raises a hand, but Alhaitham grabs his wrist. The boy turns around and desperately tries to move his arm, but the iron grip Alhaitham has on him renders him useless.

"You're causing a ruckus," Alhaitham says. A few patients have opened their doors, wondering what the noise is about. One of them is Alhaitham's grandfather. "Everyone here is a witness to your harassment."

The boys look at each other. Then, Alhaitham forcefully lets the boy go. He stumbles but gains his footing before glaring at Alhaitham and leaving with his friend.

“Kids these days…” Alhaitham’s grandfather narrows his eyes at the rowdy teens. “You’d think they have a shred of respect for each other.”

“Are you two okay?” Ayato asks. He puts his hand on Ayaka's shoulder.

"...I'm fine," she says.

“What happened?” you ask Aether.

Aether looks away and puts a hand in his pocket. “We were supposed to go for a walk… and these two guys started bugging her.”

“They were just talking to me at first,” Ayaka adds quietly. “But, when I said I didn’t want their company, they started getting pushy.”

“So, I stepped in,” Aether mutters. "I told them to fuck off."

"...You're injured, Aether," you say.

Aether glares at you. “Did you want me to call a doctor or a nurse then? There wasn’t time!”

“I’m not blaming you."

“Well, it sounds like you are! What was I supposed to do? Just let them harass her?”

You're standing in front of your brother. "No, that's not what I'm saying at all." You look at his leg that's still in a cast. "You also could've gotten hurt."

“Aether…” Ayaka says quietly.

“I know,” your brother mutters. “I know, okay? I don’t need you telling me what I already know.”

You watch your brother grab his clutches from Ayato and storm off.

“...Is he going to be okay?”

Aether’s behaviour doesn’t surprise you. You’re used to it. He always gets moody when you “nag.” But, this time, he seems especially moody. Perhaps it’s because it’s in front of Ayaka.

“Haitham.” Alhaitham’s grandfather walks up to him. “Are these your friends?”

This is far from the introduction you’re hoping for.

“Yes,” Alhaitham answers. First, he gestures to you and says your name. “She’s my friend who you’ve heard about.” Then, he looks at Ayato. “Ayato is an actor who’s working on a project in one of our departments. Finally, he gestures to Ayaka. “This is his sister.”

"And that hot-headed young man back there…."

“That was my brother,” you say. "...I apologize for his behaviour."

You aren’t sure what his nod means, but you decide not to ask.

“This is my grandfather,” Alhaitham says, breaking the silence. “The CEO of Sumeru Entertainment.”

“C-CEO?” Ayaka gasps.

Alhaitham’s grandfather laughs. “Is it that big of a surprise, young lady?" Then, he turns to you. “You are the one who wrote Love in the Spotlight, yes?”

“Yes.”

He smiles. “It’s a very respectable work. I must say that I’m looking forward to what you come up with next.”

“T-thank you, sir.”

“Should we talk more inside?”

Alhaitham notices your hesitation. You must want to look for your brother. “Why don’t the three of you head inside? I’ll look for Aether.”

“Are you sure?” you ask.

Alhaitham nods. “...I’ll take care of him.”

Perhaps it is for the best. You're probably the last person Aether wants to see right now, next to Ayaka.

“Um, but what about me?”

“I think you know the answer to that, Ayaka,” Ayato says kindly. “We’ve all been there… wanting to look cool in front of a girl. He wouldn’t be comfortable if you consoled him.”

"I'm sure that young man will listen to reason," Alhaitham's grandfather says. "If he has the courage to protect a young lady, he has the potential to be a promising man."

You never imagined the meeting to take place without Alhaitham. Isn't that the reason you came here? Well, here's to another one of life's curveballs.

◆◆◆

When Alhaitham finds Aether, your brother is sitting on a bench alone. He’s looking at something on his phone, and when he senses someone approaching him, he looks to the side and awkwardly puts his phone away.

"...Did Sis ask you to come to look for me?" Aether asks.

“No.” Alhaitham glances at the empty space beside Aether. “Is this spot taken?”

“...Go ahead.”

So, Alhaitham takes it, and a short silence settles in until…

“What would you have done?” Aether asks, and Alhaitham looks at him. “...If my sister was in trouble like that, would you have done something?”

“I’d do anything to protect her.”

“...Then, I didn’t do anything wrong, right?”

“...Protecting someone isn’t just about protecting that person, however.”

Aether slightly tilts his head. “What do you mean?”

"Simply put, there are different ways to handle a situation."

Aether sighs. “...I know what you’re trying to say. I shouldn’t have charged head-first like that, right? I should’ve considered all of my options.”

“When something unexpected happens, we sometimes act on impulse, especially if it’s something we’ve never experienced before.” Alhaitham gives him a small smile. “No one is born knowing what to do in every situation. We learn through our experiences. So, you shouldn’t dwell on this. Rather, take it as experience.”

"That's sure is a positive way of looking at it," Aether says quietly. He hunches over. "...This isn't the first time something like this happened. A few years ago, I cussed at and punched a guy who was bugging Lumine. Sis had to come to the police station because mom was recovering from surgery."

Then, a quiet sigh. "I still remember how tired she looked," he continues. "She was already busy with work. I felt like I was just burdening her, but I couldn't control myself. But... in the end, I just caused more trouble for both of them." Aether groans. "I couldn't exactly protect Lumine. This time, I couldn't protect Ayaka." He sighs loudly. "She must think I'm pathetic."

“Are you sure?”

“...You sound certain that she doesn’t.”

“If your sister tried to protect you while she was injured, what would you think of her?”

Aether is silent for a short moment. Then, he says, “...I’d think she was stupid. Stupid… but kinda cool.”

“Would that not be what Ayaka thinks of you?”

“Yeah… but she thinks I’m stupid.”

Alhaitham chuckles. “Haven’t we all been there?”

Aether narrows his eyes. "You're telling me that girls have thought you were stupid? That's incredibly hard to believe. I mean… look at you! You're like…." He relies on his hands and body language to help him find the right word. But, eventually, settles with, "...Like if the word cool was a person!"

“But I wasn’t always the person I am now.”

“Um… what kind of person were you like before?”

"That's a secret. But I wasn't proud of him. I knew I had to make changes."

“How long did that take… to, um”—Aether awkwardly scratches the back of his head—“to become the person you are now?”

"...Let's just say it took a lot of experience."

Aether sighs again. “I guess I still have a lot to learn.”

“Knowing and acknowledging that means you’re already improving.”

Aether smiles. “So, I just upped my charm, right?”

“I would say so," Alhaitham says, returning his smile.

Then, Aether's face turns serious. "...I want to protect Ayaka, but I also want to protect my sisters. They're always worried about me… and I don't want to burden them anymore." He hops off the bench. "It's finally time for Aether 2.0!"

"Aether?" Aether and Alhaitham recognize the voice immediately. Lumine walks toward them and smiles at Alhaitham. "Mr. Neighbour! What are you doing here?"

“He was giving me experience points.”

Lumine raises a brow. “Experience points? What are you talking about, Aether?”

“You wouldn’t understand.” Aether waves his hand dismissively. “Did you come to visit?”

"No, Aether. I go to the hospital in my free time."

Aether returns his sister's deadpan look with one of his own.

“We were just heading back,” Alhaitham says, standing.

“Oh, if you’re here… does that mean Sis is here, too?” Lumine asks as the three of you walk back into the hospital.

"Why is everyone keeping hospital visits a secret now?" Aether asks. He looks at Lumine. "Even you didn't tell me you were coming!"

"It's called a surprise, Aether." Then, to Alhaitham, she asks, "Why'd you and Sis keep it a secret?"

“We’re here to visit my grandfather.”

Lumine gasps. “Wait… are you two that serious already?”

Alhaitham doesn’t want to admit that the two of you haven’t even started yet.

When Alhaitham opens the door to his grandfather's room, he hears a hearty laugh from him. Alhaitham guesses that he's in good company.

“Oh, Haitham, you’re back! And with… two young people this time.”

“Lumine,” you say, surprised.

Your sister smiles at you before turning to Alhaitham’s grandfather. “H-hello! My name is Lumine.” She points to you. "She's my sister, and"—she slightly frowns at Aether—"he's my brother."

After his grandfather greets her, he says, “It seems like we have quite a group here, don’t we?”

Aether walks up to you, and you stare at him calmly. “...Sorry for lashing out at you like that earlier. I didn’t mean to.”

“I shouldn’t have chided you like that,” you say with a small smile.

Lumine looks from you to Aether and back to you. “...Did something happen? What am I missing?”

“I still have to thank you for protecting Ayaka the way you did, Aether,” Ayato says. “I’ve already thanked your sister.”

Aether smiles at him and then turns to Ayaka. “...I promise I’ll protect you next time.”

"Um... why are we getting all sappy?" Lumine asks upon seeing Ayaka's shy smile.

You turn to Alhaitham, who catches you looking at him. Then, you quietly mouth, “What did you say to him?”

Alhaitham subtly smiles and gives a little shrug.

◆◆◆

“My, would you look at the time! It really flies when you’re having fun.”

It's true. It was shortly after lunch when you and Alhaitham arrived, and now it's almost dinner time.

“Should we go out for dinner together?” Ayato asks.

No, Alhaitham wants to say. He only wants to take you out to dinner. No siblings. No friends. Just you and him.

“Actually, we have plans.”

Everyone turns to Alhaitham, who looks unfazed.

“We?” Ayaka asks.

“Ooh, I get it,” Lumine says. “You’re taking Sis out to dinner, aren’t you?”

“Just the two of you?” his grandfather asks, raising a brow. “Aren't you two just friends?”

Aether and Lumine gasp simultaneously. “What!”

Oh no. You do not want to deal with the explanations right now, but it seems like it’s getting messier.

Before your siblings can bombard you with questions, Alhaitham says, “We’re a work in progress.”

You freeze when he takes your hand. Ayaka gasps quietly. Ayato’s kind smile doesn’t change. Lumine and Aether still look like they have questions.

“...A boss and employee relationship,” Ayato chuckles. “It sounds like the plot of a romance novel.”

“Boss and employee… relationship?” Lumine turns to Alhaitham. “Do you work with Sis? I thought you were a scholar at Akademiya.”

“Didn’t you know, Lumine?” Ayato asks. “Alhaitham is the stand-in CEO for Sumeru Entertainment.”

Lumine’s jaw drops, and she immediately turns to you. “You’re dating a CEO?!”

You feel like you’re sweating bullets now.

Aether slowly claps. “If mom knew, she would freak.”

You want to tell them not to tell your mother. Not yet, at least. But the Awards Night pops into your mind, and you figure Alhaitham’s identity will be revealed to everyone.

"We thought it would be best to keep our relationship a secret," you say. You know Alhaitham is looking at you, which makes you even more nervous. You can't have him doing all the work. It won't be fair. You turn to Lumine. "I didn't lie to you and mom. But we didn't want to mention that he's currently my CEO because we weren't official yet."

It surprises you how smoothly you said it.

Alhaitham's grandfather puts a hand over his heart. Everyone almost gets scared until he says, "Haitham… you have a lot of explaining to do. My heart can't take these kinds of surprises."

“I’m sorry I kept this from you,” Alhaitham says. “I—”

“But first, don’t you have a date to go on?”

You and Alhaitham glance at each other. But it’s Ayato who says, “Unless you’d like some company.”

“No.”

Alhaitham’s quick, flat response almost draws a soft laugh from everyone else.

“Well, get going then,” his grandfather says.

Before you and Alhaitham walk out the door, Lumine adds,” We want to see pictures!”

You look over your shoulder, and this time it’s you who flatly says, “No.”

◆◆◆

As soon as you and Alhaitham are in the car, you sigh. “...I thought I was going to get a heart attack.”

“Does this mean we’re official now?”

You glance at him and see that he's looking at you. "I don't know, Catman. Are we?"

He shifts the gears. “...You’re going to drive me crazy, you know."

“It’s only fair,” you say quietly.

Wait. Does that mean what he thinks it means?

“So”—you look straight ahead—“Where are you taking me?”

“It’s a surprise.”

“Well, if I learned anything about you since the day we met, you’re full of surprises, Catman.”

Alhaitham eventually pulls up to the lakeside, where there's a long path for people to jog, walk, or bike. On the other side, there's a great view of the cityscape.

“An evening walk by the lake?” you ask with a small smile. “Simple yet… intimate, I would say.” You unbuckle your seatbelt. "And here I thought we were going to have dinner."

"Who says that isn't on the agenda?"

You smile. "Well, if you don't have a place in mind, can I pick the place?"

Alhaitham does. One of the most expensive—if not the most expensive—restaurants in the heart of the business district. The top floor has a gorgeous city view. He's been there before but never with someone special. Would it be childish to tell you he's always imagined sharing the nighttime city view with that special someone?

However, he'll let you choose. Just because he wants to do a little more if he does take you there.

"Of course," he answers.

You and Alhaitham walk side-by-side, enjoying the evening breeze that carries the sounds of laughter and quiet conversations.

“What did you say to Aether, by the way?”

"Nothing, really," Alhaitham says as a person jogs by. "He's a smart kid."

“I don’t doubt that, but I know my brother.” You look at him. “You must’ve worked some kind of magic on him.”

Before the biker behind you even gets a chance to ring the bell, Alhaitham has his arm around you and effortlessly sweeps you to his side. Your hands are on his shoulders. His arm is still around you, and your face is close to his.

“...Magic, huh?”

Your gaze falls to his lips. "...Or, is it top secret?"

“Secret or not,” he says quietly, slowly leaning closer, “I’d rather work my magic on you.”

Just before his lips brush against yours, you suddenly hear someone call your name. Startled, you pull back, and Alhaitham is just as surprised. Then, your name comes again, and you recognize the voice. This time, you turn around.

“Mom,” you say. “What a surprise.”

Chapter Eleven

Tag list: @suoshiii @lxry-chxn @seirenspinel @lordbugs @sakiimeo @ashtree-and-the-cats @ceylestia @forsh4dow @deathkat657 @kalpie @elernity @sentieence @chichibleeps @sunsethw4 @hjjks @tanspostsblog @nqctre @just-simping-over-genshin @uchihaeirin @vynbin @ayanokomu @dksfl920 @alatus2716 @itztaki @thetwinkims

#genshin impact alhaitham #alhaitham x you #alhaitham x reader #alhaitham #alhaitham fluff #genshin al haitham #al haitham x reader #al haitham x y/n #al haitham fluff #alhaitham x yn #alhaitham x y/n

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ac3-76 · 7 days

Text

Lloyd Garmadon Headcannons

warnings: none😋

General

He's been doing graffiti since he was 9

he started when he saw a guy doing it while Darklys was on a field trip in Ninjago City

he thought it was really cool and left the group to talk to the guy

His Tag is either Neon Dragon or Neon Echo

He decided it had to have Neon in it because he uses neon in all of his works

People speculate that he's Neon Dragon/Echo but it's not confirmed, not even the other ninja know

He has a graffiti account on Instagram that has 37.8 million followers and is verified

He also really good at painting and sketching

He's just good at art in general

He watches personal attention ASMR to fall asleep

He's good at sewing

He pretty much never posts on his socials, but when he does they get more likes and views than the other ninjas posts

he's the quote "short guys have the prettiest faces and the sassiest attitudes"

he's so sassy

when the Ninjas do interviews people always talk about his sass attacks

there are compilations of him being sassy on tiktok, Instagram reels, and YouTube

Kai's the fan favorite for his looks and how often he posts, but lloyd is the fan favorite for personality and level of cuntiness

Literally everyone in Ninjago loves Lloyd(except the badguys but yk)

Out of all the ninjas he has the 2nd biggest arms(Cole has the biggest)

Girls go crazy for his arms

He's so respectful towards women

He can start a conversation with anyone about anything

He is SO SO SO good with kids

A mom of 2 will be taking the bus home from somewhere, her youngest kid is a couple months old and her oldest is 4 years old

The older ones throwing a tantrum and the youngest is crying and the moms stressed and embarrassed bc this is happening in public and she can't get her kids to calm down

Enter Lloyd "do you want some help?" Garmadon to offer his services

the mom gives him her oldest and in a matter of seconds the kid is happy and smiling

he's not even sure what he did to get the kid so happy

THEN, bc one is never enough🙄, "I can help calm that you down too if you want"

So the mom gives him the newborn and again in a couple seconds the newborn isn't crying

kids just love him🤷‍♀️

He has really unique insults

"your personality is like a wet napkin at a party"

"your fashion sense if like a blindfolded toddler picking out clothes"

"Your ideas are so dull, they make beige look vibrant"

"Your sense of humor is drier than a desert in a drought"

"You're as useful as a screen door in a submarine"

and you best bet they all make it into the Lloyd Garmadon sassy compilations

He has FAST comebacks, he never misses a beat with an insult

Dating

He does a HARD launch

people will be chilling thinking he's single and then one day BAM

he posts something on Instagram announcing he's in a relationship

its 10 pictures of you, him giving you flowers, you guys kissing, you guys cuddling

it's like if you searched relationship goals on Pinterest

and the caption is something like "Happy 1 year babe🫶🫶 I can't imagine my life without you"

everyone in the comments is shocked that he kept your relationship secret for a year

Except the ninjas

who are commenting things about being happy he's finally announced it

I know for a fact Kai would commet "I'm glad you finally announced this, I have hundreds of pictures of you two I've been needing to post🙄"

You're his muse

He does graffiti pieces inspired by you

He also tells you he's Neon Dragon/Echo

He tries to teach you how to do graffiti

He's the type to read and annotate books you like

Collarbone kisser

Helps you figure out fits

MATCHING OUTFITS.

He would embroider a little heart in your favorite color, or your favorite flower into the cuffs of all his hoodies

He doesn't care if you're taller or shorter than him, just don't be the same height as him and ur good

After what happend with Harumi he would struggle to believe you actually like him for a while

Even after you prove you really do like him, he still struggles to express how he feels about you and be completely honest with you

Secret or forbidden relationship trope

he fell first and harder

also soulmate trope

he pays attention to everything you do and knows ur needs, wants, and actions before you do

(yk when Elenor anticipated Chidis sneeze in The Good Place, yea he's Elenor, you're Chidi)

"No I have a partner" instead of "Sorry, I have a partner"

he has awful abandonment issues so he's either really clingy or he pushes you away and doesn't talk to you

He doesn't do sass attacks or insult you(to often)

Kai will be recording a vlog to post to YouTube and you'll say something stupid, Lloyd will look at you like he wants to insult you but be doesn't

The fans see that clip and go crazy

"Lloyd holding back his insult is how you know he's in love"

The ship edits go HARD

#ninjago headcanons #lloyd garmadon #ninjago lloyd #ninjago #lloyd is a graffiti artist

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deathbecomesthem · 2 months

Text

Exile in Guyville

Mesermizing - Part 1 - 3.7K

This is an ongoing series. I've been writing it for over a year now. Over the next few weeks I will upload new chapters. This series was on my old blog, but I want it to live here so I can continue to work on it.

Series warnings - sexual content, anxiety attack, stalking, dangerous situations that put the reader in peril, hints at parental addiction to drugs and/or alcohol, angst, fluff, smut. This story contains a Steddie relationship that happens before the current time in the story.

Our reader is AFAB, queer, and 21. Eddie is queer and 29. Both Eddie and our reader have chronic pain, physical disability, and sever trauma. PTSD.

Much of this story is fiction, some of it has happened in the real world. Much of it takes place in real locations that have been fictionalized.

It’s quiet, and it’ll be quiet for months. A respite from the nonstop energy that the college kids provide. It’s the first week of summer break, and all of the outsiders have been shipped back home to mom and dad for the hottest days. Even your own house, normally buzzing with activity, is empty with the exception of your ghost roaming the halls in the early mornings and late at night.

8 bedrooms, 7 roommates, 2 bathrooms. Summer means it’s just you and Mo. Mo’s mom lives in town, so she doesn’t have to stay in the big house with you. She can sleep in her childhood bed, eat dinners made by her mom, and take real baths in a shiny bathtub instead of standing in a shower with mold growing in the corner. It’s one of the many problems on the list for your landlord, never to be addressed. Despite the mold, the cracked tile in the kitchen, the lock that sometimes doesn’t work on the back door, and the complete lack of insulation in the walls – every single one of your roommates signed a new lease. It’s hard to beat $120 a month.

You love the empty streets, the quiet, the way the heat of the sun brings out the details on the otherwise drab streets. Every face you come across you know. This is a small town, really, when the kids are gone. Maybe you’re a kid, too, but you belong to this town, so you’re welcome. Mostly.

Right now your jeans are hanging low on your hips, the ends dragging under the bottom of your boots forever a murky brown color from wear and tear. You’ve had them for years, and you’ll have them until the holes are too big to be patched. You decided to forgo the bra for your appointment. One less thing to worry about while Danny did his thing. You threw a flannel over your black t shirt for modesty’s sake, and so no creepy douchebags decided to take no bra as some kind of invitation. It wouldn’t be the first time.

The nose piercing you got at the shop last week was healing slowly. Slower than it should, it was painful and red for three full days before the inflammation finally calmed. The piercing, a hack job performed by a tattoo apprentice, was a bloody experience that left your roommate sitting on the ground after nearly passing out at the sight of your face. She had her head between her knees while James, the dickhead, was sweating so much while he had his head hovering over your face you could feel it drip onto your own neck. That day you left swollen, sore, and with an important life lesson tucked away in your mind – never trust a piercer with no piercings.

When you reach the shop, it’s dead. You decide to wake it up, throwing the door open – hard – letting the little bell jangle loudly to announce your arrival. The front windows are street level, making it easy for passersby to sneak a peek into the shop as they wander the streets. You know that’s where you’ll be today. Danny will prop you up in the chair that sits in front of those windows, a stage where he can perform his great trick and draw in new customers. That was fine by you, but you always thought it should earn you some kind of discount to be his model for a few hours. Someone always came in when you were in the chair.

“Who’s there?” The question comes from the back room, along with disgruntled muttering about someone breaking the goddamn door. James, Danny’s apprentice, is sat behind the counter scratching at his sketch pad. When his eyes find the answer to Danny’s question, he rolls them, and drops his head back to his drawing.

“It’s your little pet, the Queen Bitch.” James’ usual greeting rubs a little more than it should today. You’re on edge, more than usual, and you have no patience for his bullshit. You show him your middle finger, too annoyed to spare the words, and stand in front of the counter with your arms crossed and eyes glaring. James only cares about the college girls that come through that door, the ones that he thinks might suck his dick if he gives them a free tattoo. The last time you were here you heard the word “dyke” muttered between him and one of his buddies, and you assume that’s why he hates you. Why waste the time? No time for a “carpet muncher,” as he affectionately calls you occasionally. To your face.

“I can head down to Sparky if you guys are too busy for me,” you make sure to call out loud enough for Danny to hear you from the back of the shop. You need him front and center, get some space between you and his minion. Plus, you made a fucking appointment, didn’t you?

There’s a small crash, and Danny’s rounding the corner and buckling his belt. You don’t want to know what he was doing back there, but you hope he was only taking a piss. “Sparky is a fat slob. What do you, fucking hepatitis?” He grumbles as he pushes past you and into the open shop.

“Please tell me you’re about to wash those hands.” Your wrinkled nose and mouth turned down with a sour expression on the old man jerked his way across the room beyond you.

“Don’t start shit, you already know that’s what I’m doing,” and he is, hands running under the little sink sat near the tattoo stations, “I want you in the front today. You ok with an audience, my delicate little flower?”

You give a small involuntary head shake at his sarcasm before a nod in affirmation. You head to the chair, one you’ve been in half a dozen times already, and straddle it to fully expose your back to the empty room waiting for Danny to make his way over to you.

“So, I had to make an adjustment to your design. No complaining. It was too small, and you don’t want the lines fucked to hell.” He hands you the design to check out before he puts the stencil to your back. It’s bigger – by a lot, but you didn’t mind. You don’t tell him that though, you need haggling room. That’s the fun part. You have to put up at least a little bit of a fight.

“Come on, Dan. How much more is this gonna cost me?” You wave the paper in his face for a second, and he’s snatching it out of your hand with a grumble.

“We agreed on $80 initially, I’ll do the revised design for $125.” It’s your turn to grumble.

“Sparky would do it for $100.” Your sing song voice is laced with venom.

“Yeah, and you’d come out with an infection. $115, final offer.”

You pretend to make serious consideration of his final offer, but you both know you’re gonna take it. It’s fair, and it’s still less than you should be paying. You’ve never understood why, but Dan has a soft spot for you, and he always shoots low on the price.

On your first visit to the shop to get a tattoo you pointed to a design from the wall. It didn’t matter to you, it could have been anything. It was a tattoo, anything to mark your skin, to distance yourself. That day your hair still hung low, and you were in the pretty clothes your mom picked out for you. Danny had laughed at you, actually laughed.

“Baby girl, tattoos hurt. Maybe you should go get your nails done and sit in the tanning bed instead.” The smile he wore that day cut deep, and only added to your determination.

You had shocked the absolute shit out of him by falling asleep while he gave you the purple butterfly tattoo on your left hip. That day it was impossible to hide the scars. Danny saw them, you wanted him to see them. He knew from that moment on, pain wasn’t an issue for you.

Today, you look forward to the pain. The feeling of the needle penetrating your skin. Your mind has been loose and chaotic. Being in the chair always helped to bring your focus back. A meditation of ink and blood. Even James keeps his mouth shut while Dan’s working unless he’s directly addressed by his mentor. If you had the cash, you’d come every week, a tithe to your chosen church.

The next hour is a practice of meditation, transcending the scratching pain at your skin. You relax and let Danny work, you’ve learned to trust his arthritic hands. They steady as soon as the gun is turned on and his gloved hand rests on you. You listen to the rhythmic sounds of the gun and James’ scribbling at his sketchbook. It’s not until the jingle of the bell at the front door that you’re roused from your sleepy state.

You listen. You’re on high alert always, more so when your back is exposed, and you can’t see behind you. You don’t need a problem, but sometimes one finds you at the worst time. What you hear is the sound of boots scuffing the tile floor, slowing at your chair before making their way to the front counter. Not a word exchanged with you or Dan, but you felt the eyes on your skin, watching the ink mark you.

“Hey man, what’s good?” You let out a little snort, you’re sure Dan can hear. The greeting is overly friendly, something you never hear from James. You can hear hands meeting hands behind your back. James sounds like a little kid, he’s kissing the ass of this new visitor. Not a girl, you know by the person’s gait. They’re sure footed and you can hear the jangling of metal. A wallet chain, you assume.

Danny pauses the tattoo gun to make his own greeting. He rarely tries to hold a conversation with anyone when you’re in the chair, which is appreciated. You want his focus on your body while he permanently marks your skin.

“Eddie, man! I was gonna stop by and see how the shop’s comin’ along once I was done with Ms. Congeniality here.” You bring your arm out to show Dan your middle finger, again thankful for a way to communicate your feelings without having to open your mouth.

A loud laugh, uninhibited, echoes through the small shop. Not Dan or James, they never laugh at you anymore, it’s the stranger, Eddie. You hear the boots click against the tile floor again as Eddie makes his way back to see the progress Danny’s made on your shoulder piece. You can feel him close, this new guy, but you keep your face pressed to the black vinyl of the chair. Anyone that friendly with James cannot be a friend to you.

“You really know how to charm your customers.” The voice is speaking over your back now. It’s deep and coated with honey. You’re very thankful to have your face in the opposite direction of them, because the sound of that voice caused your eyes to pop open unexpectedly. A tingle runs through your body knowing how close that the owner of that voice is to you right now, looking at your exposed skin and appraising it. After another beat, he must have really been inspecting Dan’s work, you hear his footfalls move back to the counter and away from you.

“Store is coming along. I’m getting more product tomorrow. You boys know anyone looking for some part time work? It’s a fucking ghost town around here right now?” Dan and James both let out little noises of ascent. Yeah, it’s summer in a college town and the locals aren’t lining up for part time gigs. A lot of the local shops end up keeping short hours or shutting down all together for a while.

“I’ll keep my ears peeled, brother.” You can’t help but laugh a little at James’ eagerness with Eddie. Brother, what a douchebag. James pretends he didn’t hear you, and continues talking, although a little less enthusiastically, “Ed, take a look at this, I’ve been working on your piece. Tell me what you think.”

The two men at the counter go back and forth in a conversation that doesn’t interest you. You’re letting yourself get loose, lighten and drift. Danny’s steady hand and the gun lull you back into that calm space that only exists in this chair in this tattoo shop. It’s another 20 minutes until the pressure on your skin disappears, and the sound of the gun stops. Dan groans a little as he moves off the stool, “Alright, Trouble, you’re all done.”

You stand, your arm still pushed through the neck of your t shirt, and head to the full-length mirror to take a look. It’s a damn good job, exactly what you asked for, even if it is a little bigger than you initially wanted. It’s better than you thought it would be. Again, though, you play your hand close to your chest. “Hmm, not bad, Dan. Some of those lines, though. Hmm, did you forget your coffee this morning?”

Eddie’s loud laughter, you know now it’s probably something he gives freely, finally brings your gaze to him for the first time. Your eyes’ progression is slow, moving from the black leather boots, up the tight black jeans to find a black leather jacket. Loose curls hang around to frame his face, the rest of his hair is pulled back in a loose ponytail at the base of his neck. Despite the out-of-date look, he’s gorgeous, and you hope he doesn’t realize it’s taking you far too long to peel your eyes away from him.

“You boys have a livewire here.” His smile is big and the wrinkles at the corner of his eyes tell you he’s probably a little older than you initially thought. You narrow your own eyes at Eddie while you feel Danny cleaning and wrapping your new tattoo. You’re trying to get a fix on this guy. Trying to understand why he’s even looking at you and trying to be friendly with you.

“Let’s settle up, boys. I’ve spent enough time in this hell hole.” You move past Eddie to the counter where James is waiting with you. You pull your arm back through the neck of your shirt and wrap your flannel over your chest, suddenly feeling very exposed. You place a stack of bills on the counter, there goes your hope of anything other than ramen and peanut butter sandwiches until pay day. “I still think I should get a discount after you fucked up my face last week,” you mutter out, sadly watching James palm the cash that belonged to you only moments ago.

“Your face was fucked up before you even stepped foot in the door.” James’ jab misses its mark completely because Eddie’s eyes are still on you, and you can’t hear the process of the insult.

You slip a couple of 20s in Danny’s hand and head towards the door. Before you step out, you turn back to address the metalhead leaning at the counter. His hip’s jutted out and the light is hitting him like he was some sort of Heavenly creature sent down to provide you with extra grocery money during the off season.

“Oh, hey, Eddie, right? I work at the coffee shop across the street, but I could use another part time gig,” your voice is casual, but you are actually desperate. James opens his mouth to say something, you can hear his breath dragging through his crooked teeth, but Eddie puts a hand up to stop whatever insult he has in mind.

“The Record Exchange on Water. I just opened last week. Come down and we’ll work something out.” Eddie’s hand is open to you, palm up. An invitation.

You nod and duck out. You should have known. The hot metalhead owns the new record shop.

#eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson au #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfiction

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natskys-w · 2 months

Text

How would you describe John Oren?

A victim of circumstance, He ought to give up

But he's just too hard-headed.

A single mom who works two jobs

Who loves her kids and never stops

With gentle hands and the heart of a fighter

He's a survivor.

#inheritance games #the hawthorne brothers #the inheritance games #book meme #John oren #the final gambit #nash hawthorne

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tropes-and-tales · 1 year

Text

Nothing is Certain

CW: Heavy angst (character death); unrequited love; idiots in love; drunken confessions

Word Count: 3664

Other Pieces: The final installment. The first part is here, the second part is here.

A year passes. Marcus doesn’t see you, doesn’t hear from you, and he tries to be okay with that. He tries to accept that he was never a real friend to you and that you’ve made your choice to move forward in your life without him.

He tries to be okay with it. He often fails, and he is tempted all the time to reach out, to find where you live, to accidentally run into you. He knows that’s stalking territory, creepy behavior territory, so he doesn’t. When the FBI needs an art expert and when they reach out to you, he always passes the communication off to another agent. He refuses to cross that boundary.

He goes to therapy. He gets a rescue dog he names Rothko. He dates casually, but he finds the desperate drive to not be alone has died down a little. He can be alone and be okay. He doesn’t need to fall into one bad relationship after another.

He hopes you’re not alone. He hopes you’ve found someone who recognized your worth the minute they saw you, and he hopes they cherish you every single day.

He considers that growth: to pray fervently every night for your happiness instead of his own. For the first time in his life, he’s considering someone other than himself.

-----

A year passes, and Marcus calls home every Sunday night to talk to his parents, but mostly his mother.

When his mother calls in the middle of the day on a random Tuesday, he knows it can’t be good news. He answers, hears his mother say your name.

“Her dad died,” she says, and Marcus can hear the tears in her voice over the line. “Just this morning.”

He sits down at his desk, hard. He listens to the rest of it—how it was sudden, unexpected, a likely heart attack. How there’s no arrangements yet, obviously, but how you’re already on your way home to Texas to be with your family.

“Mom, what should I do?” he asks, bereft. He has no idea what to do. Should he go home to Texas too? Or should he leave you alone as he has been?

“Oh, honey,” she says. “You know her best, but I can tell you: moments like these make all the petty stuff fall away.”

Breaking your heart and mistreating your love for him hardly seems petty, but Marcus books the ticket home the moment he hangs up with his mother.

-----

He knows he’s made the right decision the minute he finally sees you.

He goes with his mom over to your childhood home, his mom bearing a tray of tamales and him carrying a small flower arrangement. Despite being friends as kids, Marcus rarely ever went to your house—you always went to his. Your family was a step lower on the socio-economic ladder, and you had seemed embarrassed as a kid by how much smaller your home was, how much shabbier. How your mom worked while his was able to stay home and keep their house clean and make homemade meals each night.

Your older sister answers the door, hugs his mom. Takes the tray and the flowers with a murmured thanks, then calls your name.

He knows he’s made the right decision to come to Texas to be with you: the moment you catch sight of him, you run straight to him. Straight to his arms.

And for the first time in his life, he’s there to catch you.

-----

Marcus doesn’t have much experience with funerals. Two of his grandparents are still alive; the other two died before he was born. His parents are still alive. He’s never lost a coworker in the field.

The closest he has is the death of his childhood dog, and that hardly qualifies.

When he sees you that moment at your house, he only holds you. He murmurs against you that it’s okay, but then he stops because of course it’s not okay.

He says he’s there, that he’s got you, that whatever you need he’s there for you, and that seems better.

He leads you through the house and takes you outside into the backyard, and he urges you to sit on the steps of the back porch beside him. He puts a tentative arm around your shoulders and you sag against him, grateful.

“No one saw this coming,” you tell him, your voice hoarse with tears. “He just had a checkup. Clean bill of health.” You pause. “They think it was a heart attack.”

“I’m so sorry.”

You start to cry again, quiet, as though you are exhausted. You must be, Marcus figures. Your world’s been upended, you probably threw together hasty travel plans, and now you’re in your childhood home, surrounded by your siblings and their young, noisy children. Now you have to say goodbye and bury your father.

He sits with you like that for a long while. He keeps his arm around you, takes your hand in his. He keeps you tucked against him, safe, and he lets you cry until you can’t anymore.

-----

If Marcus has learned anything in therapy, it’s this: he’s not always the main character of a moment. Sometimes he has to step back, content himself with the role of a supporting character.

Which is what he does now.

Old Marcus would have forced himself into your family’s inner circle, pushed his well-intentioned kindness onto you and everyone else. Which is why it was a tough thing to learn in therapy—because his intentions are always so well-meaning.

New and Improved Marcus thinks of himself as being on standby. Of waiting in the wings for his cue.

At the wake, for example: he stays off to the side with his parents, but he keeps an eye on you. When you seem to reach a point of…something, he pulls you out of the receiving line, takes you to the private room for family, and presses a glass of water onto you.

“You doing okay?” he asks, and you nod. You drink your water and hand him the empty cup, then fix him with a grateful look.

“Thank you, Marcus.”

At the luncheon, for example: he doesn’t get in the middle of it when you and your sister start to bicker. There’s old resentments there; she stayed in your hometown while you went away for college. There’s accusations of snobbery, of thinking you’re better than your family from her. From you, there’s accusations of martyrdom, of thinking your sister is the heir to the family matriarchy.

Old Marcus would have stepped in. New Marcus only goes to you when you and your sister part, exasperated with each other. He only waits for you to make the first move, and when you turn to him with a look of despair on your face, he hugs you, tells you that everyone is just spread thin and grieving, emotions roiling near the surface.

And at the graveside service: Marcus notices that your family is paired off. Your mother sits with your older brother, your sister is with her husband. Your other sister is paired off with her fiancée. Only you sit alone, your hands clasped in your lap, your head bowed.

Marcus doesn’t sit beside you. He hasn’t earned that right, but his heart breaks to see you alone, sealed off from any comfort.

He sits behind you, his chair right behind yours. He leans forward, puts his hand on your shoulder, and you startle, turn and see him.

“I’m here,” he says, his voice low, and you nod.

Then you unclasp your hands and reach one out to him. You reach back and he reaches forward, and he holds your hand tight while your father is laid to rest.

-----

Afterwards, the two of you go for a walk. You’re restless—relieved for the ceremony of burying someone to be over, but exhausted from the grieving…and dreading the grief to come.

“What can I do to help?” Marcus asks, and you shake your head.

“Just being here…it means more than you know.”

“It was the least I could do.”

You start to say something, then shake your head. You walk another few blocks in silence before you finally offer, “I’m sorry about how I left it with you. At the coffee shop. After the Jerzy painting.”

“Hey, no, don’t even—”

“I was mean about it,” you interrupt. “You were trying to tell me about Theresa—”

“And you didn’t need to hear it,” he cuts in. “You weren’t mean at all. You were standing up for yourself.”

“No, I—”

“Stop.” Marcus stills, and when you do too, he puts his hands on your shoulders and turns you to face him. “You gave me the kick in the ass that I needed. I stopped feeling sorry for myself. I started therapy.” He pauses, then adds, “I finally realized how badly I’ve treated you.”

“Marcus—”

“No.” He shakes his head, squeezes your upper arms. “You did a good thing that day.”

You look skeptical. “It doesn’t feel like it was good.”

He smooths his hands down your arms, then takes your hands in his. It makes his stomach flip: all the times he touched you in the past—the hugs and incidental touches—and it was never like this.

“I needed to hear it. I took you for granted for so long. You are…were my best friend, and I treated you terribly.” He pauses, sighs. “I’m sorry for never being there for you. For all the things you’ve done, amazing things, and I wasn’t there to celebrate you.”

You squeeze his hands and offer him a soft smile. “You’re here now. That counts for something.”

-----

Your father’s death and its aftermath…it’s the beginning of your reconciliation.

You return to your friendship, each of you different than you were before. You’re sadder, still grieving—but more willing to speak up, to not blindly follow him. He’s more self-aware, more deferential to your needs.

Back in D.C., you rekindle your friendship. You text each other; you get lunch together. You ease into it, but before long, the two of you are going to galleries together. Going for walks with his dog. Exploring the touristy stuff in D.C. that you both had missed before.

It’s the most miserable Marcus has ever been.

You loved him as a teenager and carried that love well into adulthood. It had been a precious gift he squandered as he chose women like Chloe, like Theresa. You had loved him, then mourned him, then moved onto a true friendship with him.

It’s a tragedy, then, to Marcus—how he falls in love with you far too late. How he only falls for you long after that bright light you carried for him has been extinguished and replaced by a chaste camaraderie.

And worse than being miserable, he’s trapped—because now that you’re friends again, he can’t go anywhere. He can’t ghost you, he can’t fade away. Every lunch, every text is the same: the same fluttery feeling in his stomach, his chest…then the sinking feeling, the sick-to-his-stomach feeling.

Now he finally knows what you had gone through, all those years before. Karma can be cruel in her neat simplicity, Marcus finds.

-----

Six months pass. A year. You return to Texas for the one year anniversary of your father’s death, and Marcus stays in D.C. He stops by your townhouse every day to feed your cat, bring in your mail.

Alone in your space, he allows himself to wallow a bit. Your home is so perfectly you: warm and cozy, neat. You have, unsurprisingly, an excellent eye for color, for lines, for the art you hang on your wall.

Marcus goes from room to room, checks the place out. The bedroom smells like you, the light coconut scent of the lotion you wear. The giant, ragged sweatshirt you wear around the house hangs over a chair, and he scoops it up, takes in the cozy scent of you.

It’s easy to pretend that this is his home too, that you’re only at work and will walk through the door at any moment. That you’ll make dinner together, eat together, swap stories about work. That maybe you’ll crash on the couch, put the T.V. on and he will rub your feet or you’ll pull his head into your lap, finger-comb through his curls.

He doesn’t even allow the fantasy to extend to the bedroom. He never lets it get that far. It’s difficult enough to even imagine the mundane, day-to-day intimacies. To imagine loving you like that, taking you to bed and being joined to you…then surfacing to his sad reality…it’d be too much. It’d break his heart entirely.

-----

Marcus knows you go on dates. You mention them obliquely sometimes; you pass on plans with him because you have “a thing” or are “meeting up” with someone. You never say the word “date,” and he wonders if you can guess his feelings for you and are trying to spare him the pain of knowing you’re going out with other men.

He goes a single date. It’s a friend of a coworker, and she’s lovely and funny…but the date goes miserably. Marcus can’t summon up his usual charm. He can’t stop thinking of you, in your townhouse with your cat, curled up on your couch. Probably reading, in your pajamas and your ragged, oversized sweatshirt, bare feet tucked underneath you—

Marcus is as miserable as he’s ever been.

-----

He’s trapped. He has no idea what to do other than suffer as he has been.

It’s a sweetly torturous suffering, because he has you back in his life. His oldest, dearest, best friend. The girl who sat beside him in art class, who grew up to be a woman who makes him laugh, who bolsters his flagging spirits. Who gives him a soft place to rest when he’s tired or heart-sore. Who cooks her signature buffalo chicken mac and cheese when he needs a comfort meal. Who sketches ridiculous little caricatures of him and tucks them into his coat pockets, the glove compartment of his car to find days or weeks later.

-----

He resigns himself to a lifetime of this: of being your friend, of never having you completely.

Isn’t friendship better than nothing? Isn’t a half-life better than none? Aren’t washed-out watercolors better than no color at all?

He settles into the sweet pain of this life, and he succeeds for months. The pain becomes familiar and loses its sting. He learns to live with it.

But ultimately, he fails. Of course he does. The heart wants what it wants, and Marcus wants nothing so much as he wants you.

-----

It happens that you both spend the holidays in D.C. It is unplanned, but his unit is shorthanded and he can’t spare the time to go home to Texas. You have a project you’re working on and can’t leave either and besides—the coolness between your sister and you remains, and you don’t feel especially welcome in her home for the holidays.

“We should do our own thing,” you suggest, and of course he agrees. There’s no plausible reason why you shouldn’t—hell, even his dog and your cat get along, curling up together after chasing each other when he brings Rothko over.

You plan a sleepover on Christmas Eve. Marcus packs an overnight bag, brings Rothko. It’s so similar to those nights when he was getting over his divorce and you were working through your thesis. He slept over a lot back then, slept on your couch and woke up to you making him breakfast.

For Christmas Eve, the two of you keep it simple, homey. You make a big pot of spaghetti, split a bottle of red wine for dinner. After dinner, Marcus does the dishes and you mix a pitcher of tequila sunrises. Then the two of you retire to the living room to watch old movies together by the light of your Christmas tree.

Marcus can blame any number of things. There’s the atmosphere—dark except for the colorful lights of your tree and the light of the television. The room is warm, and he’s in comfortable clothes. You’re in your pajamas (and old sweatshirt), curled up on the opposite end of the couch from him.

There’s the movies themselves. You both love old movies, the old black and white screwball comedies and romances and thrillers. Hitchcock mysteries. Cary Grant, Katherine Hepburn, Bette Davis, Jimmy Stewart.

There’s also your pitcher of drinks. You always pour with a heavy hand, and when added to the wine from dinner, Marcus finds himself well on his way to being drunk without even meaning to.

But the evening is a perfect representation of his deal with you now: close, but so far. You’re within arm’s reach, and yet you may as well be miles away.

He gets through most of “Sabrina.” He watches Audrey Hepburn fall for William Holden, then Humphrey Bogart, watches Bogart fall for Hepburn and think himself too old, unworthy. Getting more and more drunk, Marcus makes it all the way to near the end, when Bogart tells Hepburn to suppose he was younger, suppose he was his brother, suppose he had the courage to ask her to join him in Paris—

He doesn’t even realize he’s crying until you look over at him in alarm.

“Marcus, what—” You untuck your legs from under you and shift to kneel by him, your hand on his shoulder. “What’s wrong?”

He can’t look at you. He’s ashamed and depressed, and a year’s worth of misery and desire come spilling out in equal measure.

“I can’t do this anymore,” he says, and he tries to keep his voice level but he knows he sounds hysterical, a man standing at the edge. He knows he sounds drunk too, slurring his words just enough to be noticeable.

“Can’t do what?”

“This. Us. I l-love you, and I fucked it all up, and I thought…thought I could just go back to being friends again, but I f-fucked it up so bad and if I hadn’t been so fucking s-stupid, we’d already be m-married. I would have married you, not Chloe, not wasted time with Theresa, and now I’m miserable all the fucking time—”

“Jesus,” you breathe out, but you put your hands on his face, cup his cheeks and steer his face to look at you.

“Marcus, you’ve been miserable?” you ask, and your voice sounds so sorrowful, your eyes look so sad that his own eyes fill with tears again.

“You’re my dearest friend,” he tells you. He hooks his hands on your wrists, and he can just feel your pulse under his thumb, fast and solid. “You…you mean more to me than anyone. I’m just…I’m just sad. That I messed it up and can’t f-fix it.”

“Oh.” You gaze at him; you brush your thumbs softly against his cheekbones. “Marcus, I never went anywhere.”

“Huh?”

“I’m right here.” You sigh, then shift one hand to stroke through his hair, finger combing through his curls just as he imagined. “You’re pretty drunk, aren’t you?”

He grumbles, “you use too much tequila.”

He’s too drunk to understand the look on your face. He’s too deep in his feelings, too far gone in his fear of losing you. You sigh again, then take your hands from him.

“How about I get you a glass of water, and then we can start a new movie, okay? And maybe we can pick up this conversation once you’re feeling more like yourself.”

-----

You switch off “Sabrina” and put on “Blazing Saddles,” and as Marcus rapidly sobers up, he works out how he’s going to escape this horrifying, mortifying evening.

He’s FBI. He could, say, throw himself out of your living room window to escape. Do a neat roll on your front lawn, then spring to his feet, take off running for shelter. He’d have to leave Rothko behind but after his humiliating admission, it’s every man and dog for themselves.

The reality is more mundane. He sits forward on the couch, his hands on his knees, and he mutters that he should get going.

“You aren’t staying?” You sound surprised, and a little hurt too.

He can’t even look you in the eye. He stares forward, off to the side, at your tree. “I don’t think I can stay.”

“If you…if you only said those things because you were drunk, we can just forget it, okay? Nothing has to change.” Your voice wobbles on the last word, and he glances back at you to see your eyes wide, shiny with tears.

Well, shit. Now he’s made you cry. Again. Who knows how many times you’ve cried over him in the course of your life, and here he is again…making you cry on Christmas Eve.

“I meant those things,” he say solemnly. “Of course I meant them.”

“And you think I don’t feel the same way?”

He raises his hand, drops it in a gesture of helplessness. “Why would you?”

“Oh, Marcus.” You reach out, take his hand in yours. “Do you really think I just stopped loving you after that day in the coffee shop? Really?”

He snorts, shakes his head. Bitter. “I would have.”

“Well, I’m not you, then.” A long pause, and he chances to look at you—you’re gazing back at him with the same big doe eyes, shiny with tears.

“I never stopped, Marcus Pike. I don’t think I could if I wanted to. Even when I hated you, even when I very much disliked you, I still loved you. Still love you.”

What other choice does he have? He leans forward and kisses you: the girl who sat beside him in art class who became his dearest, oldest friend who became the love of his life.

#marcus pike #marcus pike imagine #marcus pike x reader #the mentalist #tropes-and-tales

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